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grapejuicestyless · 9 months

Note

i’m rlly sad summers gone but like I have a winter request for conrad so we good !!

fem reader (conklinnn ofc) and conrad used to date but then had a messy breakup so now everyone is in college and yn doesn’t have anywhere to go because everyone is off doing something for winter break so she takes stevens car and drives down to the summer house and conrad shows up a day later and she’s freaking out. They both stay there the whole week and romantic feelings and nostalgia builds up again 🤌🏻

you can add some of your own stuff too because your soooo creative and your work is golden!! thank you:)

Peace.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

Angst to fluff!

Summery: After a hard loss, both in a relationship and with the severing of the ties of her past, Y/n must learn to let go in order to gain what she so desperate wants back.

Snowfall is always overlooked. People see it as more of an inconvenience than as a gift. Each little white flake falling from the sky seems like nothing more than a mushy ball of frozen water made to block the roads and keep kids out of school, but the closer you look the more complex they are.

What was once so horrible becomes something beautiful, something unique. There is no other thing like it, each flake is different even by one branch in the pattern. It’s sad how many people are so quick to dismiss it and pout out their windows. White was never their favorite color and the cold was never their favorite temperature.

At this time of year, I usually considered myself lucky. I had a family who cherished each snowfall and a mother who would have hot-coco ready on the table for when our red cheeks and icy hair would become too much and we would finally come back inside to melt and warm up again. Each winter break my younger siblings, Steven and Belly would be attached at my hip. Having an older sister who only grew more and more, our time together always felt limited. So we spent each day in the living room. Playing the Wii with Steven and Barbies with Belly. I would read with my mom and cook with my dad. It was all so perfect. My favorite time of the year.

I used to joke with Conrad that college didn’t hold the same amount of excitement around the season because people were just as bitter and cold all year round. I called him cold hearted too because he thought it was funny. He laughed and kissed me then. I wonder if he would laugh now. Even if we no longer shared a stocking and cozied up by the fireplace impossibly close declaring our quiet loves for each other. I wonder if he still thinks fondly of the winter like I do now that it’s tainted with old memories of us.

Usually, during the winter I would drive down to Boston. It took some convincing for Laurel to allow her daughter to drive so far in such intense weather, but she knew where my heart belonged. It was the holidays and she was just as jolly as the rest of us, so she would always agree. There, I would bring gifts for all the Fishers. I didn’t have enough money to afford gifts and college, so everything was homemade. Every year I would apologize, but Susannah and Conrad always claimed to love it. Jeremiah wouldn’t say anything, but the smile on his face was always genuinely happy, so I think he liked them just as much.

Conrad would take my mitten clad hands after. Even covered in thick wool he managed to clasp his hands fully around mine, eager to get me alone. We’d slip away into his room, my cheeks red and eyelashes covered in snowflakes and his eyes wide and smile full. Behind closed doors, we could be as affectionate as we wanted without gags of jealousy disguised as disgust from Jeremiah or swooning from Susannah over how cozy we looked.

I remember how I believed my hips were made with dips so his hands could fit perfectly in them. How his arm rested on my waist so tight, I didn’t need a blanket because he kept me warm. No fireplace or layers of coats could light the flames in my heart and keep me warm in the coldest winters like Conrad could.

He said summer was his favorite season when he met me, but now he favored winter because it reminded him of me. I asked what would happen if something were to happen to us, just to tease him then. He got serious, I still remember the look on his face when he told me I would always be his favorite thing. How winter would forever remind him of me and no matter what, nothing could change that fact.

It was our own little secret oasis. A utopia of our own confined within the four walls of his childhood bedroom. When it snowed, we’d play in the snow like children and when it stormed we’d make forts to watch our favorite winter movies. It was a dream I never wanted to end, I was foolish to think it wouldn’t.

By spring, it felt like he was tired of me, of who I was. No amount of effort could keep Conrad beside me. I became someone he wasted his time on rather than someone he begged to be around. My skin was like fire to his touch, his eyes avoidant. It all came to a head when I broke down in late May.

“Why, why am I not enough?” I begged him then, I wanted to know what my problem was. Why I couldn’t be more than what I was now. Why we couldn’t go back.

He shrugged his shoulders, looking past my left shoulder. He looked distant. He knew it just as well as I did, we were walking on eggshells.

“Because you’re just not.” His words were bitter, knives stabbing me through the heart and ripping out. There was no reason, he didn’t even try to make the gashes in my heart better.

“Bullshit. I do everything for you! I give you everything!” It came out more as a question than a statement. I wasn’t as sure about what I once believed so firmly now that Conrad was showing how he felt.

“I guess it wasn’t enough then.” His eyes were watering. We were already talking in the past tense, we were over. He didn’t have to say it, neither did I. It was as clear as the freckles on his face, there was no amount of mending that could pull us back together.

In my mind I could only remember those final words we spoke to each other. The first hour of our long argument was washed from my mind for my own sake. What should’ve been tattooed permanently in my brain was gone the second we were over. Maybe if I could remember it fully, each insult and every word he used to put me down and make me feel small, I would’ve been able to feel justified in my anger. I could talk shit with my friends, shit on him to my mother. But even in my heartache, I couldn’t find reasons to be mad at him.

Conrad always went through so much on his own. It would be selfish of me to believe that he was completely okay when things ended. It was messy and sudden the way it happened. He was the biggest dick to me, but I couldn’t blame him for what he did. Not then, not now. Part of me still loved him. Part of me would still die for him in secret. He was my first love, all I knew when it came to my feelings. I let him rule my heart, my decisions. I didn’t show up to Cousins that summer.

Now that it was over, no ties binding us together, no overbearing reason to drive down to Boston for the weeks leading up to the holidays where we’d all finally be together again, I have no where to go. Steven was old enough to be on his own now, a freshman at Princeton. One of his rich friends had dropped by within the first twenty four hours to drag him off to his families vacation home. I hadn’t even set up the Wii yet. Belly, my littlest sibling who I adored more than anyone else I knew was more distant than Steven. The stress of deciding between Finch and Jeremiah or some state school with the guarantee of being on volleyball was eating her alive. Back then, I would’ve told her not to lose sight of her dreams and life because of some boy, but here I was doing the same thing. I stayed quiet and let her decide what she wanted.

My mom was gone just like Steven. Away to talk about her book with other critically acclaimed writers and producers. My dad was out of the picture. He wouldn’t be back until Christmas morning. He was never really present after the divorce, but he’s a good man and he tries his best. He just works a lot. It hurts to not be able to enjoy the holidays like I used to, but I can respect why everyone’s away.

Somehow, I end up in Stevens drivers seat. I’ve never had a car of my own. While Steven spent weeks searching the internet for a cheep car, I spent my time studying for finals and applying to colleges. I never had the time. He gave me his keys before he left. He said I could take his car anywhere I wanted as long as I didn’t ruin it. Each dent in it, I would owe him ten bucks. It wasn’t much, but to a struggling college student, ten dollars in my bank account might as well have been him asking for hundreds.

“Belly, I’m heading out. Call me if you need me, okay? I might not be back for awhile.” The words I chose were ominous. I didn’t tell her where I was going, why I was going or how long I’d be exactly, but she didn’t care enough to ask. So I climbed into Stevens car and let my playlist shuffle. I imagine myself in the situations my favorite artists write about and sing along like I can relate to their upper class parties and juvenile activities. It keeps my mind off of where I’m going.

It’s not like I got in the car set on heading to the one place that once swore to never step foot near again, but when I recognize the signs on the highway pointing me in the same direction, I’m suddenly set on it.

The sting of the breakup lingered like a tattooed kiss, a reminder of something so special that was now gone. I wouldn’t let him ruin the place that was once so special to our families.

Pulling up to that driveway, I remember how the weeds would grow over the gravel by July and how Steven and Jeremiah would stay out for hours plucking at them to make Susannah happy. How the grass held the imprints of our small bodies rolling around the hills and daffodils. The sand was forever glued into the fabric of our favorite t-shirts and the salt air is what we smelled of until December washed it away.

We were always so close here. Despite the rifts and the problems that happened between us. Not blow out fight or silent treatment could ever separate the Conklin’s and the Fishers from each other for long.

I looked back on how I felt at home. How together was something that I never even questioned. Steven would be by the fireplace yelling at the television and Belly would be begging him to quiet down. Laurel would be curled up in the corner scribbling things into a notepad and dad would try to sneakily move the elf on the shelf.

We were older now. The wii wasn’t all that special and Belly longed for the chaos she once hated. Steven preferred his friends and mom and dad fell out of love so mom could learn to love her work more.

I pulled into the large house through the garage. I knew the code by heart, it was my phone passcode. I figured that if I wanted to stay attached to homeliness so badly I could be where I learned what love was the best.

In my head, even now I always believed that no matter how long it would go untouched, the summer home would always be bright and warm. Smelling of Susannah’s candles and Belly’s sticky iced teas.

Stepping through the front door, it was dark and cold. My breath was less visible than in the outside, but the light and heat didn’t bounce from wall to wall like it always did.

It took me a few minutes to find the correct switch to turn up the heat. I cranked it until my socks burned on my feet and a sweat covered the top of my forehead. It was comfortable, I could sink into my own chunky sweater.

It was my mothers, the blue and white striped sweater I wore. She was gifted it by Susannah in their late college years but it never quiet fit her because she was so short. It fit big, but it didn’t sag at my knees or gather at my wrists as much. It smelled like my mom and reminded me of Pennsylvania skies.

The warmth from the heat and the comfort from my clothes set me in a slump, my eyes drooped. I hadn’t even turned on any lights yet, hadn’t gone up to my room to make the bed. I was sat in place on the permanently indented couch. Though my body curled into the spot where I always laid during movie nights, my head fell where Conrad’s lap would’ve been. To imagine we were all just as happy, as close made me feel fuzzy. If I tried hard enough I could even hear his voice. Calling for me, like a dream.

The sun peaked through the windows and the dust that collected on the once neatly kept glass projected tiny shadows and spots across the hardwood floor. The couch was warm with my body heat and other than the faint whisper of the wind, it was peaceful.

A melodic whistle blowed through the open gap between the living room and the kitchen. It was smooth yet broke when the song grew too high for the deeper voice that carried the tune.

Rubbing at my eyes, my feet swung out from under my thighs, I wiped away any drool or signs of slumber. Still, clearing my complexion did not rid my body of the tired achey feeling and the small blurring of my vision. My brain was following behind my body, every caution sign to who was here at this time thrown to the wind.

Mugs clanked together clumsily, my nose burned with the strong scent of coffee beans. It was chillier in the morning here than how I had left it at night, I could feel the tip of my nose turning red and growing colder.

A taller boy stood hunched over the countertops, a spoon clinking around softly as he stirred around something in the mug. His shirt hung loose on his body but his pants fit just right.

His hair was wavy, but only just at the ends. Under the strong smells of early morning caffeine, I could faintly still pick up the scent of sea salt and a spice I couldn’t name. It was vanilla like but also had a lingering smell of oak and woods. It was my favorite smell.

“Conrad..?” It clicked in my brain that the handsome boy hanging around the summer home wasn’t some pick me up sent from heaven. The reason behind my instant admiration for such a simple, domestic task was because of how well I knew and once loved the boy. The name fell from my lips quietly, like I couldn’t believe it was true.

Spinning around, I met his blue eyes. I watched his lips twitch, fighting against some kind of emotion from spreading across his face and the light in his eyes falter. He looked blank, unaware of how his lack of enthusiasm of our reuniting was crushing me inside.

“Figured you’d want coffee.” He was right. He still knew me like the back of his own hand and that was the worst part. I hadn’t changed, I never would. He would always know me and it hurt to know I trusted him like that at one point just for him to leave. He even made it in my favorite mug.

A light blue ceramic mug that still had Belly and Conrad’s fingerprints in the clay and visible brush strokes across the top. They made it for me when we were still little. It was my favorite gift from her because they made it as an apology. For breaking my old vase I made for my mom in art class. They meant to harm and felt horrible, I cherished their kindness more than anything.

“No…no. I’m all set.” Crossing my arms and clearing my throat, I set my eyes on the ground and leaned against the doorframe on the wall. We didn’t speak after that, he didn’t move. Sucking in his lips, I heard him sigh almost disappointedly.

“So…” He tried to start, I was too scared to listen. Not of him, god I could never be scared of him. But of what he could want to say.

My eyes flicked over the dents in the floor, I discovered marks I hadn’t seen before. Just when I thought I had everything memorized. When I thought I knew everything, when I thought I knew him.

“You know, uhm…I think I’m going to settle in.” Nodding at him quickly, I all but ran to the stairs. My hands gripped at the banister so quickly, I felt skin pull skin. It tore just under my fingers beginning, the top of my palm. I swore I heard him call after me, but maybe it was the ringing in my ears.

I came here to get away. In search of some solace, I grasped at the tattered strands of my childhood to find that I had held on too long. In my own journey, by some sort of fate, I dragged along a deeper part of those memories with me.

I spent that morning stowed away in my bedroom. I left the door ajar. The air was chilly still, and the air dusty. The heat had rarely been used. Only on the rare occasions in which Susannah would find reason to escape down to the beautiful town of Cousins. Simply to watch the early snowfalls or sparkling lights decorating the center of the town. Usually when I would get settled into my own room in the summer home, each knickknack would be thrown carelessly over the bureau top and shoved in the forever empty bedside table drawers. I would procrastinate making my bed last. I hated the damned fitted sheets and the wrinkles I couldn’t flatten for days. I hated the way that the corners never stayed. My body stretched as far as it would go, yet I could never quiet hook the fabric far enough to keep it settled.

Today was no different. My blood boiled the same, but it mixed with an unfamiliar warmth. How endearing it was to be able to relive such a memorable moment of my summers again even after tragedy struck the once uniting household.

“Fuck.” The sheets flipped up. The full sized mattress was far too wide to allow my arms to stretch across the full width of its body and hook the corners over far enough to where they wouldn’t slip. Each move resulted in a different kind of release with the bedsheets. Each time I ended up wrapped up in the thin cotton sheets.

The clock ticking on my bedside table taunts me. Reminds me of how long I’ve been tangled around in my bed. If it weren’t so humiliating, I would’ve asked for help. But I created a mess. My feelings, one’s that Conrad had so clearly buried as he was able to be kind and cordial towards me while I panicked like a fish out of water. So I hop around from corner to corner desperate to finish my task.

“Y/n?” The name burns the way it rolls off of his tongue. Like even with me gone, he had practiced pronouncing it in the mirror, whispered it to himself each night. It was like we’d seen each other the day before, the way it came out. Breathless and light.

The moon hung over the house, illuminating thin strips of shine through the windows that led from the floor to the very bed I was sprawled across.

Sighing heavily, I threw my head back. Hair fell in front of my face, tickling the bridge of my nose. I saw Conrad hesitate. His hand flinched out from where it was tucked behind the doorframe. He set it on the white wood frame.

“Can I help?” It was innocent enough. Maybe he was sick of the sound of my knees rubbing against the mattress. Or the way I grunted every few minutes. I stumbled around my room all day fixing it up, I almost forgot how loud it could’ve been.

It felt sour to accept it. Even if it were as innocent and kind as it seemed. Conrad had a glimmer of hope in his eye and his lips upturned. He looked so handsome still, nose pinker from the slight chill and eyes still just as deep blue.

“No thank you.” I huffed. I tried to sound annoyed, something that was hard to do when you weren’t really all that annoyed at all. Resistant was the only similar thing I could place a name to. I saw the wag Conrad’s smile faltered, his eyes looming with a dark shadow, masking the vibrant sparkle.

“Come on, don’t be so stubborn, please? You’ve been at it for hours, just let me help.” Stubborn. Just like my mother and his. Each of us were always set to do things on our own. But this was far more than just genetics at this point. This was my own grudge I was holding. This was my pride and my responsibility over my emotions acting. No matter how nice the gesture, I still refused, gnashing my teeth.

“Oh, so suddenly you care?” It was a lot more mean than I meant it. I know how much Conrad cares. How much he always has. He doesn’t have the best way to show for it, but in the end you always know it. It was a mistake, an instant regret. I watched how his face contorted. He wasn’t just disappointed now, but genuinely hurt by my own dig at his insecurities.

His whole life, Conrad always feared he wasn’t enough. He couldn’t give enough, couldn’t be enough. He always talked himself down, creating a false standard in which everyone else was above him, out of his league. He was insecure. He didn’t need reassurance, he knew what kind of love was real and what was fake, but the fact that maybe I had thought the same crushed him. I could tell.

His silence hung over us so heavy, a knife could slice it. His jaw stuttered and his eyes blinked slow. A loss for words. I wish he could just yell at me. Fuel my fire, make me feel less bad about what I said. Less guilty about the fact I couldn’t get over us when he could. Conrad didn’t deserve my emotional daggers directed at his heart simply because we split. I know Conrad, I always have. His method of leaving was cruel, but the boys heart was in the right place always.

“Fuck!” The sheet snapped back. I had enough. In all seriousness, I should’ve stopped to talk to the boy who was so clearly hurt by the door. A girl, a guest in a house that once felt just as much as hers as his was there in a now occupied room throwing insults unprovoked when he was trying to be nice.

Standing, I stumbled past him clumsily again, taking a spare blanket that hung off the end of the bed with me. I couldn’t take it. His stares, the silence, the sheet, my own guilt, my thoughts. I needed to be out of that sickened room.

“Y/n…” Again, the call was faint. A whisper in my head whose only goal was to make me stop. I didn’t turn. It was unfair, the whole thing. To me, to Conrad. I decided to sleep on the couch.

My back ached. The plush cushioning under my back too soft, too worn in. A good remedy, a great place for a quick nap. But it hurt after more than a few hours. The fabric rubbed harshly, the pillows sunk in. My hips popped when I stood.

The sun was shining through the windows, air crisp. Heat finally reached all corners of the large house and the cob webs were finally swept away. The magic of summer wasn’t there, but it felt homely. A good alternative to the sad loneliness of my own bedroom at home.

The house was still, the kitchen untouched and an empty mug in the sink. It was stained in a ring from where the old drink had been and had little brown streaks from where the coffee dripped off of the sides. The counter tops were cold, despite the heat inside. The floor was quiet, there was no shuffling. It led me to believe that the only other occupant was still asleep.

Heading up the stairs, I picked at my old clothes. The discomfort came from multiple things. The way my clothes stuck to my body, my teeth didn’t feel right in my mouth. My hair was knotted. I looked fine, but nothing felt right. The only way to describe it was that when waking up after a rough couple of nights, it felt like my skin didn’t fit right over my bones.

My door was wide open. The hinges bent all the way back, the light bled through the curtains. My already slow steps came to a halt when the threshold fell behind my legs. My bed was decorated with the same blue floral design it always had during the summers.

The pillows were placed where I always had them, and my blankets were hung so neat on the bottom of my bed. My fingers ran over the soft fabric like it wasn’t really mine. Like I was admiring a sample from a store, wishing it were mine. It was always so pretty.

My thumb hooked over the folded edge very carefully. I didn’t want to mess with the perfectly made bed. More importantly, I didn’t want to crease the remaining hand prints that laid in the center of the bed.

The plushy duvet left residue from bigger hands. Spread along the bends, from the center down. Proof that someone had truly tried their best to perfect it.

Looking under the top, not only had each layer been placed, but the fitted sheet. I could see it now with all its layers peeled back. The thought that even after my initial attempts to push away, to be mean, to hurt him, that Conrad had still wanted to help me made me feel warm. I wasn’t sure why my heart was fluttering for a boy I swore I hated. But my cheeks were red and my knees felt weak. I always did love his acts of service.

I didn’t plan on showering, but my skin was sticky with sleep and my heart was pounding too fast. I hated the fact that Conrad was too good for everyone in his own special ways. I hated the way he still cared and the way he remained so observant even in our absence. Most of all, I hate the way I reach for his shampoo in the shower. Longing for the scent of him to linger on me for just a little longer. How funny it is that we’ve changed so quickly and yet not at all. We used to share our hair products. He kept a hair tie for me in his bedside table. I had a drawer of clothes in his room, he had some in my closet. He went from my everything to just something in my life. Yet, with all this change I still reach for the familiarities of what we once had. My hand still searches the shower for his conditioner. My feet still take me to his door to find a shirt I like. What we had is gone, crushed under the weight of our separation, but my muscle memory pulls me back. The heart is a muscle, one that forever beats for Conrad Fisher.

I sit in the corner for longer than I lather the soap across my skin. My body is curled up against the cold tiles. I feel pathetic doing so. How small I’ve made myself. Not only mentally, but physically. I feel weak at how little self control I have. I think back on the past year of my life and I regret each decision I’ve made leading me here suddenly.

Was I not enough for Conrad? I know it’s not his reasoning behind his leaving, but I feel like the theory becomes more and more plausible the longer I think back on how lonely I’ve been. So stuck on my own problems, I forget how little I see my family. How Belly has grown without me. Her friends, her lovers. She is independent, she knows her path. Steven has matured. He understands feelings, he’s valedictorian. His brains lead him through life, he no longer comes to me at midnight to ask for help with math. I no longer review his essays or read his made up stories in the living room. We are two different siblings who once spent every moment together. My mother is nose deep in her own promotion with her books. She is succeeding while my father is going on dates and moving on. I am stuck in the same spot, forever thinking of the past, I can not move on.

I am scared by the knowledge that my family is no longer dependent on me. A scab is forming over the wound of the fact that Conrad has left, I am not needed. I hope the warm water fading into a cooler drizzle will hide the way my eyes are puffy and red. The streaks of water on cheeks will become streams of the shower. I am strong and resistant like my parents, but I am scared to admit that I have real fears. Ones that control my life. I will never tell them how I breakdown, how my heart is breaking and I am falling off the pedestal.

It’s more lively now then it was just an hour ago. The birds are gone, on vacation away in the warmer weather while the cold covers New England in a chilling blanket. I hear the mugs clattering from the hallways and the soft humming passing through his pink lips. He hears me before he sees me.

“Coffee?” He motioned to the brown liquid, steaming while it poured into the glass pitcher. Rubbing beneath my eyes, I could feel the weight of my eye bags heavy on my skin. My throat was coarse, hands aching from how hard I had grasped onto the shower walls. I hid behind the island counter on the stool. My body curled up into the baggy clothes covering my body, my knees hugging into my chest as close as possible.

“Yes, please.” I mumbled softly, trying not to show any weaknesses. Conrad knew me better than that. The way my lip twitched into a fake smile, how my eyes were more avoidant that usual. Even in my heavy feelings, my eyes were always drawn to him. I was closing myself off.

A beat passed. Conrad’s attempt at conversation had fallen short, right by my feet.

“How’d you sleep?” He turned to me, freshly brewed coffee sloshing around in the same mug as yesterday. He placed it in front of me, but he turned away again to pour his own cup. It wasn’t to further distance himself, creating a divide all while I was shutting down, but to give me room to breathe in a space I was so clearly suffocating in.

“It was okay.” I sighed, hand holding my head, my eyes closed. I imagined myself laid with my back pressed against plush pillows and my childhood bedroom fairy lights hanging over my head. It was still winter, but the atmosphere in my daydream felt of summer.

“I’m glad, then. That it wasn’t so bad, I mean.” He corrected himself, afraid of a wrath inside of me that didn’t exist to him anymore. It never really had, my emotions had only been misplaced yesterday.

Often I’ve been told that my words shoot to kill when I’m mad. I insult and belittle myself more than others, but my mother has no problem with bringing up the few times I targeted my feelings at Steven or Belly. How little I made them feel, how guilty I felt. I threw up once, after yelling at Steven. He hadn’t cared for it, fighting was what siblings did. But remembering how I tried to hurt him made me sick. I felt the same after insulting Conrad.

Nodding my head, I pursed my lips into a thin line. My eyes blinked away any dryness, I inhaled a deep breath.

“Hey, uhm…thank you, by the way.” I pulled the sleeves of my sweater over my hands, hovering over the cup of coffee to revel in the hot steam hitting my face.

Conrad turned around, leaning against the counter. His hands pressed up behind him, firm but his face was soft, glad.

“I shouldn’t have…you didn’t deserve that.” My eyes flickered between the floor and the folding of my sleeves over my thumbs. My skin was cold, my hair wet on the back of my neck. I had a lump in my throat.

“Y/n?” His voice was gentle, closer than before. I saw his elbows press against the counter top, just mere inches away. I felt even more awkward, littler than before somehow.

I hummed. But the coarseness in my throat made it come out as more of a rumble. I choked on the growing lump, my nose burned.

“We don’t have to avoid each other.” He said it like that was so easy. Like everything was resolved by him simply stating that he didn’t want to face the consequences of our actions.

“I know.” I brought the edge of the mug to my lips and blew. Steam clouded my vision, the wet heat felt nice on my cheeks.

“Y/n.” He said more firmly.

He wasn’t angry, but he wanted my attention. My eyes flickered up to his. They were darker now. Swarmed with so many emotions, it was hard to grasp onto what he was feeling. I set the mug down.

“Please don’t avoid me.” He begged more softly, his hand hesitated to reach out to me. Once they clasped around mine, it was almost relieving. Having something familiar to ground me while I was only working myself up. “I miss you, I miss us. We were best friends and we haven’t even spoken in…I don’t even know how long. This, this is stupid. To be running in circles like this?”

“That��s easy for you to say.” This time, my words weren’t angry. They broke apart when I spoke. The sentence was raw, the lump in my throat broke through my clenched teeth and my nose heated up in an intense burn. My eyes were heavy, working hard to keep any tears at bay. Again, here I find myself in a different spot, practicing the same habits. I stand in front of Conrad angry, ready to hurt his ego and pierce a hole through his heart just to ease my own mind.

I wanted exactly what he did, to be as close. I missed him more than anything in my life ever, but it wasn’t so simple. He pleaded my name again, I pulled my hands out of his. His fingers were like a barbed wire. It suddenly stung to have him touching me.

“I just wish you would’ve acknowledged it, you know? I mean look at me, look at us. You’re fine, you’re happy. I can’t even look at you without wanting to cry.” When our hearts broke, they broke uneven. Conrad was left with a bruise why I was facing the pain of a bleeding scar across my own. He had been the one to cause the rift, he had been the one to bring up everyone’s insecurities, use them against our relationship.

“Y/n.” He whispered, reaching out to me again. I stood from the stool, keeping my distance. My tears were hot, they burned into my skin.

“You couldn’t even stand me, Conrad! And I couldn’t see it before, but I can now. You couldn’t even text me, no. No, but that’s not the worst part. Maybe it’s the fact that you couldn’t even show up to Stevens graduation because I was there.” He sighed, ready to defend himself. I look back on all the disappointed faces, I remember the way Steven frowned at that empty seat beside me and I feel angry.

“Do you know how hard it is to tell your baby brother that his hero couldn’t make it to his graduation because he can’t even stand to be around me? Do you know how sad he was when he started to walk up to the podium and saw your seat was empty? I recorded it and sent it to you, did you know that? I wasn’t going to, I didn’t think you deserved to have a part in one of the most important parts in Stevens life, but he begged me to. Tried to make me send it twice so you’d get it.” I took a deep breath, wiping away the tears by my eyes, more spilled. My face was wet with salt water and red with anger.

“So why don’t we go back to how things were before after you’ve fucked it all up!”

“It’s really fucking unfair of you to act like this hasn’t affected me at all either!” He finally shot back. He was never one to yell. Conrad always had some sort of control over his composure. He never yelled, he hated yelling.

“How, how can you say that after you’ve done nothing to fix anything!” Walking closer to him, I saw how he turned away to grip the counter between his fingers.

“People deal with shit differently, Y/n. Grow up!” He yelled. His eyes were wild, it should’ve scared me. But god, him telling me to grow up after all he put me through only made me angrier. I was fragile already. But not as a flower, but a bomb.

“Fuck you, Conrad.” My voice was shaky, but firm. I didn’t yell, my lack of volume was almost scarier than my inevitable rage. He looked up at me, it was like watching him realize how his words had betrayed him. He hadn’t meant for us to fight, to talk like this. He wanted to fix things. He wanted me back.

“Y/n.” He shook his head, walking closer to me, he bent away from the edges of the island to reach me quicker. His voice was laced with pity

“Stop saying my name!” I backed away, feet catching on the threshold, I slowed myself down. Each time he said it, it pulled on my heartstrings. How could he be so selfish to not even be able to see all the pain I’ve been put through!

“I’ve missed you ever since I left you! You think I don’t regret the way I treated you? I’m not naïve to my own stupidity, I know my mistakes, I’ve owned them. You were my everything, god you might as well have hung the stars!” He waved his hands around to animate what he was saying. It only stresses me out more.

“Then why? Why did you throw it all away!” My body began to crumble beneath me, my knees wobbled.

“Because I was scared! I was scared of losing you. I thought if I let myself become too obsessed, that if you decided to leave me I would never be able to get back up. I had to do it!” He confessed. It all made sense then. All my unanswered questions, all my insecurities of not being enough. Conrad hadn’t left because I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He left because he was scared of what would happen when I was gone. That he wasn’t enough.

“I wouldn’t have left you, Conrad. I wouldn’t have.” My palms hit my eyes, my knees started to give. A sob ripped through my throat. It hurt to breathe.

His arms were like a blanket. His hands still fit perfectly around my back. When he held me, it was tight. I knew it then that he wouldn’t be letting me go, not now. His shirt was wet with my tears, mine was wet with my hair. I felt stupid, naïve to think of Conrad in such bad ways when he had only been doing what he thought was best to protect his heart after loss after loss.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” I repeated it like a prayer, I didn’t mean to be so mean. I didn’t want to be rude to him, I wanted him to be close to me always. His heart was beating out of his chest when he nodded. He knew I never meant to fight him. We were both entitled to our feelings, there was no reason in trying to apologize for how we reacted.

His hand lifted to my head, brushing through my hair. He gathered a chunk in his palm, his knuckles gripping at it. It didn’t hurt, he didn’t intend for it to. He was breathing me in, holding onto me in every which way possible.

“It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.” My sobs were muffling themselves, quieting down into soft whimpers. It took a lot to even nod my head against his shirt. It smelled like him, and it was homely. I felt safer now than in our argument. Our words held no value anymore, I just hoped that what he said was true.

Holding her like that almost made things feel normal again. Having her hair in between my fingers and her waist pressed against mine. I wanted to revel in it, selfishly. But her sniffles and uneven breath only made me remember why I even got the privilege to hold her again.

Again and again, I watched her breakdown over a mistake I made. To protect myself. I swore it to her last winter, promised her that it would always be my favorite season because she was my favorite thing. I built up this trust and a love between us. It was when she left that I freaked out over what my mom said.

“I’ve never seen you so happy.” She had said, poncho bc my cheek between her fingers. Playfully, I pulled my face away.

“Yea?” I mused, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and watched the steady snowfall on the final night of winter through the window.

“The love bug’s got you.” She was right. I was so undeniably in love with Y/n. I would change everything in my life just to be with her always.

“What?” My eyes squinted from the way my eyebrows furrowed. She was still looking out into the snow.

“It’s okay to be in love, Connie.” She quickly turned to me and smoothed out my shirt. She sensed my confusion and stress. I knew I was in love with her, but the fact that it was that obvious, that clear made me worry.

“Everyone has their first love at some point.” With that she left. At some point. The words rung through my head. I knew that the first love was always the strongest, but this was not my first love. I had fallen for an ex-girlfriend in freshman year. She broke my heart. Why was the thought of Y/n leaving shattering mine completely?

The more I thought of us together then, the more I worried about her leaving. She was perfect for me, maybe. But could I even measure up to her perfection? Could I give her everything?

I was able to push that feeling away for a few weeks. But as winter turned to spring and the leave began to regrow, I couldn’t shake it. Distance was a thing I was only growing between us. Space, something I created so there was no way we could get hurt. I thought it was the right thing, then. I thought it was the right move for me to let her leave so easily. To watch her fight for me one last time and not react. I was giving her the chance for someone more, someone better. I didn’t know I was only breaking her heart in ways I worried I would break my own.

It was a guilt I lived with all these months. When she didn’t come up to cousins because she wasn’t feeling good, I knew why. I had avoided her like the plague after our last conversation, our first real fight. I couldn’t even show up for her family in one of their most important milestones. Now it seemed like we only fight now, or at least in these past couple hours.

My neck was stiff from how it leaned against the back of the couch. I hadn’t watched past the hour mark of the black and white movie Conrad had put on. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I no longer liked it.

The movie was all I watched when I was at my absolute worst. Not to say I wasn’t still there, I felt rock bottom beneath my feet, but I felt myself getting better slowly. I no longer spent each day rewatching the same film over and over to ease the pain and remind myself of a happier time. I hated the way they talked. I once found it romantic, but the old cracking in the sound and the fancy accents made me angry. None of it was real.

To Conrad, he only did what he thought I would like. He had no way of knowing of my new distaste to the movie. One I used to rave about for hours. Then again, he never asked.

Yawning, I felt a set of eyes on mine.

“Tired?” He asked, a small smile on his face. I waved him off.

“Nope.” I popped the ‘p.’ It was an easy lie, my dark circles and slouchy posture gave it away. There was no way to sell it. I was surprised when he didn’t push me on it. My eyes drooped, my cheek pressed to my lonely shoulder. I had no one to lean on. I curled into myself a little, all while silently telling myself I was awake.

A pillow hit my lip, I bit down a little but it didn’t hurt me. My eyes were wide open now, hair messed up around the top. My fly aways were all over the place, my eyes squinting.

“Hey!” Grabbing the corners of the pillow, I swung as hard as I could towards Conrad, the culprit. It his his chest, he groaned out in a heavy breath. The pillow was soft, I was sure it didn’t hurt. But he entertained the idea that it did by rubbing circles in his chest, wincing and hissing through his teeth. I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously?” I leaned back against the cushions again, placing the pillow comfortably over my lap. I heard him laugh. A real, genuine laugh. It felt like weight was lifted off of my back.

“What! That was one of my best performances.” He punched my shoulder. I shot him playful glares. He pushed at me again, begging for a reaction. I folded already, giving into his games and retaliating against his childish attacks. But I would not crumble so easily. I would not let him tease me and play me until I opened up again just hours after yet another fight. I worried that another would ensue.

Sitting up, I tossed the pillow back at him. The sound he made confirmed it had hit him in the face.

“Come on, where are you going?” I could hear the smile in his voice. It made me smile too, knowing he was happy.

“To bed, I am tired.” I didn’t look back, but I felt him watching.

I swore I heard words die on his tongue. A soft stutter to a dead silence. Like he wanted to protest but stopped himself somehow. He never saw me look back, but when I was turning to the stairs, I allowed myself a glimpse.

His eyes were spacey, lip pulled between his front teeth. His eyebrows furrowed. He was deep in thought, but I could see the disappointment in his face. He didn’t seem as full of life, as cheerful. We were rebuilding a childhood, best friend bond that was lost with in cracking of our foundations in the spring.

“Goodnight, Conrad.” I still hadn’t had the ability to carry a joke with him. To keep a conversation flowing without my emotions dying inside of me before I could get them out. I whispered my goodnight. I wanted him to know I still held a place in my heart for him, but part of me wanted to reserve that knowledge to only myself.

I was scared to be more than what was being proposed. The door was open, we were almost friends. It was an odd spot. We’d act like friends, joke like them, but we both knew what we had done, what had just happened. I would walk through the entrance if Conrad would allow it. If we could at least be close, even if his lips weren’t mine, even if his body wasn’t there for me to lean on anymore. I would live happily, I’d be able to put on a brave face and call myself his friend. I would stand by the alter, watching him find another love, burying the hatchet of our love for good and I would be okay, I decided. As long as I still had him. As long as I never had to feel as alone as I did this morning.

“They’re saying borderline blizzard conditions, Con. You don’t think we’ll need to go on a supply run, do you?” His back was turned to me, hands working over the pot of coffee skillfully. His thumb brushed against the glass, he hissed quietly and shook his hand off.

“I think you’re just overthinking it.” He payed my worry not attention. He knew this house better than I did. It would hold, that wasn’t the worry. We had no shovels, nothing to dig us out of snow were to block us in. I scoffed and rolled my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. I made my way around the island, pushing myself off of the counter and into one of the stools perched under it.

“Coffee?” Conrad asked, ignoring my questions again. I gave into him, playing his game and being stubborn.

“What kind?” My fingers drew circles on the cold marble.

“Black.” He set the cup down in front of me, letting it come to a halt right in front of me. My eyes flickered to the coffee, a smirk fighting it’s way onto my cheeks.

“Like your soul?” Like your heart, is what I wanted to say. Something that used to come so easy, meaningless insults directed at him not to make him sad, but to make him smile. I still hadn’t answered by question, though. If I were to direct a remark at his heart, would it weigh too much under the cracking foundation of our recovering friendship? I still wondered if he would laugh at that and go along with it.

Conrad laughed, looking out the window and admiring the sky. He didn’t respond, but he never really had when I’d make those jokes. Usually he would laugh or tell me it was a good one. He sighed lightly.

“I walked right into that one.” He smiled down at his coffee now, holding the mug loose with the handle dangling between his fingers.

When silence took over the room, it wasn’t uncomfortable. We welcomed it. We were alone with our thoughts and for once, they weren’t twisted and heavy. Only happy memories and thoughts of old habits.

In my mind, I dreamed of times where I knew what to say after making a joke. What I could do to counter a snarky remark and his laughter. I always knew what to say to him, when and why. I knew what made him tick. I still knew how to set him off, I believe that once you have the ability to get under someone’s skin, you never truly lose it. Either you continue to poke at the wounds that hurt them so, or your presence is able to remind them of it. Yet, with all the loss in my every heartbeat, somewhere along the way I forgot how to keep him happy.

Conrad’s footsteps snapped me out of my clouded haze. My eyes snapped up from the counter to his face. He didn’t look at me, but stayed focused on his coffee.

“Glad to know you still got it.” His eyes flicked to me, I swear I saw him wink. It was so quick, my words died in a pathetic stutter. I smiled stupidly at him, I couldn’t even pretend to be snarky. It caught me off guard, somehow. My walls were torn down now, the barrier of anger and sadness I kept up around him to keep us apart gone with our last fight and heart to hearts. The devils in the details, but somehow it didn’t feel as deep, as life changing anymore.

It was like he knew I couldn’t think of something to promise to him. To keep us going. He surely hadn’t lost it.

I tried to rationalize everything recently. But it felt like it took over my life. I’d almost forgotten about Belly and Steven. How they’d been so quick to shut me out simply because someone had offered me a place to be wanted for a moment. Conrad always knew when to swoop in to save me. I could help but talk myself down every so often and convince myself that Conrad is not made of Angel dust. He simply is a man, and a smart one at that. All of this could be just to butter me up, I know it’s always an outcome. A way to win me back, but never want me the same. It poisons me to think about him that way, I know him. He would never play me to become the good guy.

My mind has no middle line. Constantly wavering between my lover, the man I see as the sky and the seas. I see him as a perfect lipstick stain to a white collar, uggs in the fall, hot chocolate in the winter. He is all things I love and yet I still fight. The other part of me fights my heart to keep my distance. How just hours ago I told myself the hate I had for Conrad was always going to be just that, irreversible hurt that he caused. It’s the sweetest torture I could bare in the fact that really, by the end of it my mind is set on just getting to be with him again. No matter what his games are.

It’s pathetic, but my heart strings pull a little whenever I hear his footsteps upstairs. When I can tell if he’s coming to see me or not. I like knowing he likes to be around me once more. It almost covers up the fact that he hurt me so bad. I’m not idiot, however. I wish I were in some cases, but I’m not blinded completely by my love. With every advance, I find a way to make it platonic. He’s my friend.

He said he missed me, our friendship bond. I know that he is a man of his word. I should not work myself up, I shouldn’t expect so much. I shouldn’t jump into his arms because he says go. I think rationally, I use my head. I let my heart race and my cheeks flush but ultimately my brain will stop me from messing about again. So part of me finds it sad when the power goes out later that day. For both the house and myself. It’s childish how quickly I jump in search of Conrad. I have to remind myself not to hold onto him, not to yell I told you so.

I call for his name quietly through the halls, feeling the chipping paint under my finger tips. It’s still fresh, but bumpy. A previous project of Susannah’s from when her paint brushes never seemed to dry out. It’s hard to tell if she never finished her projects that summer. Or even if she never finished any.

In the dark, it’s almost more clear to see where her brush strokes end. Where the moonlight illuminates the white and blues, you can see the divides between old and new. God, if she were any less attentive it would surely be the end of this house. It was in great condition, but some things were out of place, uncared for simply because Susannah’s mind went a mile a minute.

Smiling, I let my hands run over the wall, feet planting on the cold wood. I could feel it through my socks, with the lights out and the heat stuttering to a halt.

“Y/n/n, hey.” He sounded breathless, coming up from behind me. I hadn’t even noticed the stomping of his feet up the staircase as my fingers danced along the wall. So caught up in the past I find it that sometimes I forget that I’m living in my present. Looking around my metaphorical room in my mind, I see my chosen family. I see his brother as mine, his mother as mine. I see myself as a child again running through the sand and tracking mud through the dining room.

I know deep down I can not keep holding on, keep on keeping myself back. I can never give Conrad peace, but I can give him my sunshine, my best. He would always have a friend in me. I set my heart free then, fingers stuck to the wall, eyes flickering to my feet. I let go of my heart break and my solemn silences I throw at my loved ones for guilt. I let my walls down, I take Conrad’s hand, and I shake my head. His smile is warm, his eyes loving. He still needs me, he always has. He still loves me and my heart is racing. I finally feel like I have him back.

“You okay?” Back in reality, I’m aware that I’m not actually holding onto his hand, and Conrad isn’t really smiling at me. My heart is still in its cage and I have fallen victim to my own mind again. Conrad is not mine.

Clearing my throat, I lick at the corners of my lips. When I shake my head this time, I know it’s real because Conrad is looking at me questioningly. He is not in love with me, he is not drooling over me. The power is still out and our muddy footprints mean nothing to him anymore.

“We blew a fuse, but the generators dead. We’re just going to have to stick it out.” I nodded again, looking up at him with doe eyes. My lips were glossy with a sheen coat of spit from how much I licked them, but at them nervously. Yet, he didn’t even spare me a glance. It was almost like he was waiting on something.

“You can say it.” He finally sighed.

“Say what?” His eyes caught mine, seeing just how intently my eyes focused on his dimples and the bridge of his nose decorated with delicate freckles. I cleared my throat.

“You told me so.” He smiled, punching my shoulder playfully. He could tell my mind was drifting, he could see it, I saw the way his eyes softened. My gentle smile turned into a shit-eating grin.

A beat passed, he continued waiting on me in the dark room. I liked it in some odd ways. Enjoyed having him waiting on me for once. It wasn’t the same. How my heart waited for his apologies for so long, how I expected it because I knew one day he would come back to me to make things right in his own way. But somehow, his desire for my once overlooked jokes and brushed off comments made my cheeks warm. Like more than me in this moment, he wanted the normal us back.

“Are you going to…” He voice trailed off, my feet picked up against the cold wood floor.

“Why don’t you start the fire? I’m going to get some blankets.” I tucked the hair behind my ear, practically running to the staircase. He nodded, not that I could see it, but the silence confirmed that he had forgotten that I couldn’t truly see his nod. That along with a soft hum of approval from him.

“Oh, and Conrad.” He hummed again. His eyes glistened in the moonlight, shining brighter than any other object standing in the hallway. He waited on me patiently, slowly inching closer.

“I told you so.”

The best of blankets and pillows sprawled put along the living room floor helped to further nestle us against the foot of our white couch. The snowfall and the storm felt less like an inconvenience but a gift.

I was reminded of my childhood. Of first snowfalls and broken ice skates. Red noses and icy hair. I remember how even after the facade of perfect holidays and new years kisses faded into nothing more than a dream, how my heart still soared with excitement each coming fall. How I couldn’t wait to see the snowy powder decorating my front lawn. I get reminded of why I drove so long to see Conrad. Of his warm hugs and his soft mittens. Wearing his hats and stumbling around in the backyard. I feel less hurt by the company than I once did a few days ago. I feel blessed that by some miracle, fate had string Conrad and I back together. That his hands would forever paint my hands in a gentle love we only held, and his whispers of senseless jokes he mumbled tiredly were only mine to laugh at.

The fire crackled, roaring feverishly through the night. The snow and wind pounded against the sides of the house, and despite the chills running through my toes and my fingers, I felt warmer inside than before, rekindling our inside jokes and fueling ourselves for even more.

Soon, our soft laughter and ongoing conversations died out. Our eyes glued to the flames, I tried to catch a glimpse into Conrad’s eyes. I wanted to know what the fire would look like reflected into his blue eyes. Instead, I caught his gaze locked onto my face.

I felt embarrassed, in a way. Vulnerable under his gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up and my body tingle. I felt like a school girl again.

“Y/n/n.” He called for me softly. The only way I was sure that he’d even said it was the fact that my eyes were so trained in his pink lips. I nodded slowly.

“Why did you come down here? Why now?” Even though the question was serious, I couldn’t help but to smile at his curiosity in my life.

Taking a deep breath, I watched his flat face turn into a welcoming grin.

“Lately, I’ve just been caught up in the past, I guess. I’m just so used to coming home every winter to Steven and Belly in the living room already fighting. And my dad and mom arguing about what decorations playfully.” Conrad laughed like he could picture it. He’d never really been in my house during the holidays. Sure, the Fisher family would stop by every few months when the distance became too much, but holiday’s were usually spent apart.

“I guess when I came home this year and that wasn’t there, I kind of freaked a little. I mean, Steven just left, Belly was too caught up in her own life to care about what I wanted to do, how much time we had left. My dad was too busy to stop by and…” I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I almost allowed the words to slip, how the final straw was that even with the mess of my family, at least at one point I had Conrad. I had his gentle hands and his quiet promises to hold onto. When everything went to hell, it was like losing the last bit of peace. “I wanted to be somewhere I wouldn’t feel alone, I guess.” I replaced my words with this. Hoping he’d understand how much he meant to me, how much all of it meant to me.

The single puff of air coming harshly through his mouth in a sigh reminded me just how close we were. How I could feel each word falling from his lips fanning over my shoulder. We were sharing a blanket, so close yet our bodies so far.

“Y/n.” He sounded more serious. During my confession, I found a home in the floorboards. Feeling safer confessing to the air than to a man who destroyed me not so long ago. My eyes hesitated to meet his, but I could see just how serious he was.

“I regret what happened between us more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. I know I can’t reverse that, but please never say you are alone. I swear to you, no matter what, I’m there.” It was rare to hear such thing from Conrad. Maybe a grunt of a hug to assure my feelings were always appreciated. But I could see the sincerity in his face, his voice was dripping with guilt. He meant it, every word.

Nodding my head, I silently thanked him. I watched his eyes search my face. How his lips parted but shut quickly. He decided against continuing, but it was like an unspoken apology was being said between us in that moment.

With gravity pulling us together, it was only in my nature to protect my heart. I had to rip us apart before I gave in without knowing if we’d ever be the same. If I kissed him and it was just a winter fling, I couldn’t take another heartbreak.

So, in our silence, I moved my hand between us. The pad of my thumb brushing away the charcoal from the fire dusting just under his cheek. I watched how he shivered and backed away, eyes fluttering shut. All while I bit at my lip, delicate in the way I rubbed away the dust.

“Are my hands cold?” I remained focused in on him, my lips curled into a smile seeing his reaction to my touch, how he shivered but didn’t complain. He nodded his head slowly, but his eyes were still closed.

I saw how his eyebrows furrowed, it wasn’t from discomfort, but in the low light it was hard to tell. My hand curled away, ready to ease the coldness off of his skin. I didn’t expect his own hand to cover mine, holding it against his now rosy cheeks.

“Feels nice.” He mumbled almost drowsily. His eyes still hidden behind his eyelids, his other hand found mine aimlessly, gently pressing it to his other cheek. I felt his weight sink into my palms, reveling in my touch.

The band suddenly snapped. All the tension, all the build up. He was right there, so eager, so gentle. I had to know if he was still the same boy I loved not too long ago. He had set me up for an old joke.I always wondered if I could still joke with him like this. It still gnawed at me some nights.

“It’s because you’re cold hearted.” I expected him to laugh, I hoped he would. But instead, he smiled just as genuine as his old laughter, melting into my touch more than I thought he could ever. I hadn’t been able to predict what he would tell me. Couldn’t have read his lips even if I could see into the future.

“For everyone else, maybe. But not for you.” He was as honest as a man could be. With his eyelashes fluttering open, I could see it in his eyes now. How they looked back at me wide and awake. I felt my stomach flip. There was something there I had previously missed. Dancing along with the glowing of the fire in his irises, was the same spark he once carried when I was his and he was mine.

I didn’t even get to challenge it, teasing him and making him repeat his confessions. My lips stuttered on the first syllable, just before his hands smushed my cheeks with the force of how he grabbed me. He was firm, but not aggressive. He could never hurt me.

His lips molded against mine perfectly in my mind. He tasted like mint and hot chocolate. My hands tangled in his hair, his palms flat against my waist. With so little space between us, so much fever and pent up frustration, air became harder and harder to get. With each touch of his fingers, it was like tiny fires being sparked across my body.

He hadn’t even had to tell me what he felt then. Neither did I. In that moment my walls crumbled beneath my feet. All resistance was gone. In Conrad’s grasp, I felt less alone.

I knew it then. To Conrad, my mind games I played on myself, my temper and the storms that would inevitably cloud up my sunniest days, the fact that I could never give him peace did not matter. We would always be enough.

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher angst #conrad x reader #tsitp conrad #conrad x you #tsitp s2 #tsitp x reader #tsitp x y/n #fisher x reader #team conrad #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x reader

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enbycrip · 3 months

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One of the many fucking things no one takes seriously about ADHD is the absolute fucking torture of losing stuff all the fucking time.

It’s not remotely funny tbh. The amount of fucking money I’ve spent replacing stuff that I never fucking see again.

I have an energy-limiting condition. Searching for things all the time destroys me. My house is a mess because if I can’t see things I forget they exist and I absolutely just DO NOT HAVE THE CAPACITY to repeatedly take rooms to bits to find them when doing that once, especially if it means moving my head up and down repeatedly, which most searching seems to, can easily take me out for the entire day.

Seriously. I manage to get my pup at least one walk of the three she needs a day 4-6 days a week, with my rollator, because her harness and lead, my keys, my knee and ankle supports and my headphones now live on a table by the front door. They do not get moved for ANY reason. Doing this has meant I’ve been consistently able to do this without ending up repeatedly in exhausted tears or literally passing out and coming round on the floor with her standing on my head in a mix of concern and needing to pee for more than four months now.

If you claim ADHD “isn’t a real disability”, you can fuck right off. It’s worse for me because I’m also autistic and have hEDS and POTS, but it still constantly fucks my life up on a regular basis, and fighting for access to medication *despite* a diagnosis is just as fucking difficulty as it is for all my other impairments.

It’s a real disability. You can’t just overcome it by wanting to enough. And coping strategies are like accommodations for every other disability - sometimes very helpful, sometimes borderline helpful for the amount of work they involve, sometimes intensely *unhelpful* for a given person. Even finding helpful ones don’t make the disability itself go away - they just limit the effects in situations they exist.

Out of those situations, or if they are removed, the disability still exists. I see too many people who undo my coping strategies for my ADHD and think I’ll “just manage fine” without them. Same as I see people who think I can “just manage fine” walking without my rollator because they don’t have easy room in the car for it.

If life worked that way, everyone would be able to fly and no one would ever starve to death.

#disabled #disability #chronic illness #chronic pain #chronic fatigue #adult adhd #disableism #heds #pots

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bts-0t-7 · 10 months

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Eternal Love

Pair: OT7 x F Reader

Summary: You find a deep connection and support between all members of BTS through shared moments of laughter and unconditional love. You embark on a journey that surpasses traditional love and transcends individual connections, creating a harmonious bond with the whole group.

Genre: Fluff, Idolxreader

Chapter Warnings: None

WC: 740

As you sat in the middle of the large sofa the boys have in Jungkook’s house, the atmosphere grew brighter every second. Filled with laughter and happiness, you were sandwiched between the members, each of them bringing their unique energy and charisma to the room. The bond that you shared with all seven members was something truly special - a connection that ran deeper than words could express.

Jin’s infectious laughter echoed from the kitchen, filling your heart with warmth, just like the dinner he was preparing. Yoongi’s calm presence beside you brought you a sense of tranquillity, while Hoseok’s bright energy uplifted your spirits. The total opposites but they do not clash. Instead, both energies work together - creating an ever-brightening atmosphere.

Namjoon’s wisdom and deep insights forever inspired you, while Jimin’s caring nature made you feel cherished at every moment. Taehyung’s playful antics brought you joy and Jungkook’s dedication and determination constantly motivated you to be the best version of yourself. With them, you never once felt completely alone.

In the midst of this harmonious chaos, you found solace and love - a sanctuary where you can bleed your heart out without worrying that it will never heal. The collective support and understanding from all seven members created a safe place where you could trust yourself and them - a place where dreams and aspirations were nurtured.

With each passing day, they never fail to surprise you with new facets of your relationships. Each member carried themselves differently, but yet all so connected. Meals were filled with laughter, deep conversations that delved into the very depths of your soul, and moments of quiet understanding that transcends words. There was no need to speak when you were with them - the connections ran deeper than blood.

The everlasting comfort that you find yourself encompassed in brought you a deep sense of belonging - a critical feeling that you were an integral part of their world. The boys celebrated your success; comforted you during times of struggle; and stood by your side through thick and thin.

In return, you offered them your unwavering support and care. You cheered for their accomplishments, provided them with a safe place where they could express their vulnerabilities, and ensured that they knew they didn’t have to walk the roads alone. Your connection with each member was unique and meaningful in their own ways - but together, as a whole, you created a symphony of love that knew no bounds.

Late nights were spent in each other’s company, exchanging stories, dreams, and hopes for the future. In those intimate moments, you discovered the depth of your bonds shared with your boyfriends - going beyond the traditional definition of love. It was a connection that tested the limits of friendship, surpassing the weaving of threads and transcending into something deeper and more profound.

The living room was filled with the melody of laughter and whispered words, creating a harmonious blend that could only be achieved by the eight of you together. In each other’s arms, you found love and support - a reminder that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them as a united force.

As the stars started to twinkle in the night sky, you leaned into the embrace of all seven members, heart near-bursting with the amount of love floating in the air. With a shared smile, you whispered, a voice full of gratitude, “Thank you for being here with me, for coming into my life.”

Their voices, a chorus of chaos, surrounded you. “And we are so very grateful to have met you too, kitten.”

“There is no other if it is not you, sweetheart.”

At that very moment, you felt a cosmic push, and you knew that your connection with the members was not to be confined to individual connections - it was a song of all seven. It was a symphony of emotions, a tapestry woven with shared memories and promises of the future, laughter, and unconditional support.

As you embraced each member, you revelled in the warmth of their love - the love that encompassed the entire group. You knew then, that whatever the future lies ahead, you will be fine. The boys will be fine. And the future’s gonna be okay.

As long as you were together, the sign woven by your connections will continue to play the harmonious melody - a melody that would forever be known as your eternal love.

“FUTURE’S GONNA BE OKAY.” – D-DAY

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minty-mumbles · 1 year

Text

LU Superhero AU

I’m gonna be honest, I haven't come up with a plot for this AU. But I'm posting it anyways lol

Setting

In this universe, everyone has a power, but how useful those powers are varies wildly.

Heroes are technically a part of law enforcement, but they work independently from the government and have a lot of leeway. A Hero Agency recruits by scouting among civilians who have strong powers with combative properties. Heroes are recruited when their powers manifest (13-15 yo) and train until they become an adult. Then they decide if they want to become a hero or do something else. Very few people choose to stay.

A Hero Agency controls patrol schedules and coordinates the heroes’ actions with the police. They secure private healers/doctors, get heroes high-quality suits and gear, and give them excellent legal representation if they need it. They also often provide housing if the heroes want to use them. In short, they're a safety net for heroes, but they come limitations.

Vigilantes are those who do what the Heroes do, but without the backing of an Agency. This means they aren’t licensed to take extreme actions, which makes a lot of what they do illegal. Heroes technically work to catch Vigilantes, but they end up teaming up more often than not. Heroes aren’t too concerned with catching them. They recognize that Vigilantes are doing the same thing as Heroes do, but simply don’t want to answer to an Agency.

Heroes are public figures. (There's definitely fanfiction written about them in universe, lmao.) Generally their civilian identity are kept secret. The public assumes that heroes live in the housing that the Agency provides, and that being a hero is their only job. However, most heroes live elsewhere, and only crash at Agency housing if they’re working late or they're injured. Being a hero pays more than enough to live off of, but most heroes have at least a part-time normal job so to not draw attention.

Characters

Time:

Status: Hero (Starting to take a background role in things. Not retired yet, but not as active.)

Code Name: Tempus or Kronos

Power: Rewind - He can rewind time up to three days. He can go back shorter time frames, like one day, but it takes more concentration to do so. Three days is the default. The minimum amount of time he can wind back is 15 minutes, and that's after decades of practice.

When he travels back in time, his body is rewound to the state it was at the time he wound back to. He could be bleeding out, and turn the clock back and be fine. He's not able to bring anything back with him, so he’s gotten pretty good at memorization.

Once he rewinds, he can’t do so again until he's back to the point where he started from. For example, if he rewinds three days, he has to wait three days to be able to rewind again. He can’t just keep going back three days at a time until he’s rewound an entire year.

Other:

Time was unusually young when his powers manifested, only nine or ten. The powers manifested when his school was attacked by the villain Majora. No one believed him, either about the fact that his power had manifested so young, or that his school would be attacked. (Power manifestation usually happens ages 13-15.) He was stuck repeating the same three days over and over. He doesn’t know how long he spent in the loop, but eventually he managed to seek out the help of a vigilante, the Fierce Deity, who has the power to possess others and give them godlike strength. He was able to defeat Majora, but at the cost of the life of his childhood friend, Navi.

He’s married!! To Malon! And they are so in love

He used to teach history at a university.

His secret identity has been revealed. People know he’s married, but they don't know to who. This forced him to move into agency housing. Malon stayed on Lon Lon Ranch just outside of the city. Time spends a good half of his days there, he just has to be careful about not being seen around the ranch too much now that people know who he is. If he were to retire, he and Malon would likely go into witness protection.

Twilight:

Status: Hero

Code Name: Vespera (? Latin for Dusk)

Power: Wolf Form - He can shapeshift into a wolf. While in wolf form, he can talk to other animals and ask them to do things. This gives the illusion he can control animals, but he actually can’t. He’s just polite and more often than not animals listen to him. His wolf form is slightly larger than a normal wolf and has better senses. He has unnatural tracking skills. He is incapable of human speech in Wolf form.

Other:

He is Time’s distant cousin. They weren’t close at first, especially because Twilight lived all the way out in the countryside, while Time lived in the city.

Twilight’s power manifested at a rather young age (11) and he had problems controlling his transformations. His parents sent him off to the city to train as a hero, in hopes he would learn how to control his power better. He stayed with Uncle Time, who just so happened (not that Twilight’s parents know this) to be a Hero as well.

Twilight was mentored by Time. Mentoring actually means something in this system. They teach the younger heroes the ropes, etc.

He ended up liking being a Hero enough to stay. He goes back to visit his parents and help out around the farm during the summers though.

He was mentoring Wild before Wild’s accident.

Warriors:

Status: Hero

Code Name: Captain

Power: Persuasion - He can’t exactly brainwash people, but he can make them very susceptible to his suggestions. They can break out of it if they have enough will. It’s very useful for making opponents lay down their weapons and give up, and even if someone does still try to fight him, it makes them reluctant to do so, making it easy for Warriors.

Other:

Used to be a captain in the military and was recruited to Hyrule City’s hero agency from there.

Oh my god, he has so many fangirls

Sky:

Status: Hero

Code Name: Loft (& Crimson)

Power: Spirit Bird - He can manifest a ghostly bird. It can come in any form, from a common sparrow, to a hawk, to mythical birds like a phoenix. Its default form seems to be the legendary Loftwing. No matter what form the bird appears in, it’s always a brilliant shade of red, making it easy to spot. Sky doesn’t control it, per se, but they share a very deep bond, to the point many have wondered if the bird is just an extension of Sky, and not a separate entity.

I’m considering also giving Sky float or levitation as a secondary power. Just cause it would fit the theme

Other:

Sky is a pacifist. Crimson can and will kick your ass /hj

He is dating the daughter of Hylia, the Mayor of Hyrule City. She knows he’s got some sort of dangerous job, and assumes he works for the military, but doesn’t know he’s a hero. She has not connected his little pet cardinal to the giant red loftwing yet. Time has told Sky he needs to tell Sun before things get messy, and Sky is trying to figure out how to tell her

Legend:

Status: Hero, Vigilante

Code Name: Hare

Power: Does he…. have a power? Unclear. Even the others in the chain aren’t totally sure. He must have one, right? One time he mentioned something about being turned into an animal, but no one’s sure if that was on account of his own power, or from somebody else’s. He mostly fights using the power of These Hands™️ and lots of interesting technology and items that have been magically enchanted by other people’s powers.

Other:

He’s got a mysterious background, but everyone knows that regardless of what he was doing before he came to Hyrule City, he’s very experienced.

He used to be a spy for Hylia, the mayor of Hyrule City. He quit after his girlfriend died in an unrelated incident. The stress and grief were too much for him. He didn’t want to go back to that life, so he became a hero instead.

Often does reconnaissance missions to go find precious artifacts or things like that. EIther via the government or via an independent client. Because he takes an independent contract out of the purview of his work, he’s also technically considered a vigilante sometimes.

A lot of people owe him favors, and he has a lot of powerful connections. If you need something, be it information, a rare item, or to find someone, he’s your man.

For a short while, there was a popular theory among the public that he was a child assassin. It eventually got out of hand and the Agency publicly addressed it, shaming people for trying to pry into Legend's private life. The rumors mostly stopped, but there are some people who still believe it.

Wild:

Status: Ex-Hero, Vigilante

Code Name: Before his accident when he was called Champion, after his accident he’s called Nightwatcher (Don’t like this name, can’t think of another)

Power:

Minor Time Manipulation - A Flurry Rush basically. He can slow down time for up to a minute at once, allowing him to appear to move unnaturally quickly. He can only activate when he’s in midair, for some reason. He works well with Wind because of this, as well as being an accomplished parkour artist.

Regen - He lost this power after his accident. It repaired any physical damage done to him. It was not an instantaneous repair, it took a while. It also increased his pain tolerance, partially due to his power, and partially because he got injured so often and was expected to walk it off because he could heal. He got used to the pain. He’s reckless because of his power, knowing any potential injuries wouldn’t matter. This mind set becomes a problem after he looses this power.

Other:

He used to be a hero-in-training. Only about a year before graduating to a full-fledged hero, there was an accident. He nearly died and was in a coma for 100 days. This accident also took his memories, his regeneration power, and his civilian friend group (the champions)

He may or may not have gotten help from his friend Flora and some shady Sheiklah scientists to survive. On a totally unrelated note, he now has a cool robot arm and his eyes glow!

When he woke up, he remembered nothing. He didn’t want to be a hero anymore, and didn't like being under the Agency’s thumb. He now acts as a vigilante.

All the heroes know he's the same person, but have no intention of doing anything about it. The public has several conspiracies about him being the young hero who was long thought dead, but nothing proven.

Flora used to be a mechanic for the agency like Four., but has since dropped out to become a weapons/suit/gear supplier for Vigilantes.

Wild somehow has the phone number of Hylia, the mayor of Hyrule City. No one’s sure how he got it, because everyone else has an absolute bitch of a time getting a hold of her, even her own family members. (Seriously. Flora, who’s her niece, started to desperately look up to the woman after the death of her mother, but was never able to talk to her. Like, ever)

Hyrule

Status: Healer, Hero

Code Name: Glowmoth/Glowworm/Firefly? (Not sure about this one. I wanted something to allude to the fact that his fairy form and magic glows. A moth themed Hyrule would be so cute, and Firefly would allude to his proclivity for fire)

Power: Fairy Form - He can transform into a fairy. He can fly. It’s good for stealth because it's small. It does glow slightly, so if it’s dark the stealth is negated. As a side effect of his fairy form, he also has the power to heal. He use his own energy to heal, but the fairy dust he sheds while in his transformed state can be used to heal as well. Dissolving the dust in a liquid will make a potion or a healing salve, which this takes no effort from Hyrule, so how he usually heals.

Other:

“I’m a healer, but… *cocks gun*”

He started out as a vigilante who lived on the streets/partially in the Lost Woods that borders the city. He went around offering medical assistance to any who needed it. As he was way too young to have a medical license, this was illegal.

Time saw him doing this and basically went “Oh yeah, you’re coming home with me,” and took him to meet Malon. Hyrule didn’t know that Time was a Hero at first. Time only told him later when Hyrule didn’t stop healing poeple and Time wanted to give him a way to do it legally.

He primarily acts as the field medic, but he’s more than capable of taking care of himself. He’s just more concerned with the civilians who might have been caught in the crossfire of the battles

Four

Status: Ex-Hero-in-Training (He's retired from field work and now works as the heroes’ mechanic)

Code Name: Fracture

Power: Duplication- He can split into four people, the colors. They started out as simple clones of himself, but started to gain their own personalities the more often they were separated. Recently, they started communicating with Four mentally while he was not split. Four is currently seeing a specialist for this, as it’s an unfortunate reality that people’s powers can become too strong and can overtake them. (This is what ended up happening to Fierce Deity, and Time had to kill him)

They’ve been able to stop this process in Four. But he’ll need to have treatment for the rest of his life to stop it from getting worse, and he can’t over strain his powers, ei: stay split for too long. The colors are now a permanent fixture in his mind, and Four has made peace with that. He can mentally communicate with the colors now. If he is asleep/unconscious, or he allows them to do so, they can take over control of his body for short periods of time.

(I kind of want to give him a shrinking ability too. Having a second power would add to the “his power is too strong for his body” situation. If he has shrinking powers, Minish would be a good alt code name for him.)

Other:

Four is trans and named himself Four in honor of his ability, before he knew the colors would become sentient. (I know some of the others have names that very conveniently align with their powers as well, but this was the worst case, so I justified it)

Four was heavily debating whether he wanted to be a hero or drop out to go to a trade school. The choice was made for him when he could no longer overuse his power. He’s not mad about it, because he probably would have quit anyway. He still makes gear for the other heroes.

He moved into agency housing so he could have direct access to medical staff after it was realized something was wrong with his power.

Wind:

Status: Hero-in-Training

Code Name: Whirlwind or Squall

Power: Wind Manipulation - He can manipulate the wind. He is able to send gusts of wind to shove other people around, can fly, and can carry and pick up other people as well. Is still getting a grasp on his powers. While he is very good at activating them when he needs to, he is worse at keeping them contained when he’s in a bad mood.

Other: He is training to be a superhero. He’s only allowed on the field right working as Hyrule’s assistant, but he’s learning quickly, and wants to become a full fledged hero.

Other:

Mentored by Warriors

New to the Hero Agency, only developed his powers recently

He was this close to joining a group of vigilantes. (Who are strangely pirate themed and very committed to the bit, despite Hyrule City not being close to any ocean, unless you count Lake Hylia. Which you shouldn’t.) Time managed to convince him not too. (He has a bit of hero worship for Time)

Bonus Characters!

Dink:

Status: Villain

Code Name: The Shadow

Power: Infection - He can infect people with his black slime and control them. The amount of people he can control at once is dictated by how complicated the tasks they're doing are. He can control a bunch of people if all he’s asking is for them to patrol and sound the alarm if anything is wrong. He can control less if he’s asking for them to do something like perform surgery. The abilities of the person who is controlled are limited to their own. So for example, Dink wouldn’t need to understand how to do a surgery, but his victim would. He is not mentally connected with them, so if he sends them to do an errand and they get knocked out, he wouldn’t know. I imagine he might also be able to form little creatures out of the slime (not sentient) to fight for him as well.

Malon:

Status: Civilian

Power: Animal Charmer- She’s unnaturally good at calming animals. It works best on mammals, works okay on birds, lizards, and amphibians, works very poorly, if at all, on fish and invertebrates. The longer she spends around a certain type of animal, the better her powers work on them, although this is still limited by type of animal. She could spend days with spiders, but her control over them wouldn’t grow much at all. Because she works on a farm, she is excellent at calming common farm animals.

Other:

Lives on Lonlon Ranch

She knows what Time’s job is. She doesn’t necessarily like him going out to fight, but she admires that he’s brave enough to do so. She also knows she couldn't stop him if she wanted to

Ravio:

Status: Spy and part-time Hero

Code Name: Rabbit

Power: Portrait - He can turn into a painting and move along surfaces.

Other:

Lives in the neighboring city of Lorule. He works directly with Lolia, Mayor of Lorule City.

He’s a spy and also occasionally helps with rescue type missions like finding people trapped in rubble. The public is aware of him, but doesn't know he’s a spy, obviously.

He is one of Legend’s “connections.”

Legend and Ravio’s matching names was a total coincidence /srs Legend was a bit pissed about it.

Ravio looks a lot like Legend, actually, to the point that half the public thinks they’re related. The other half thinks they're dating. Their matching names do not help this situation. Hare/Rabbit fanfiction in this universe is very highly debated lol.

They actually aren’t related, but neither are they dating, exactly. Legend is still a little reluctant to date after Marin

Marin:

Status: Civilian (Deceased)

Power: Lullaby- Can sing someone to sleep. Her actual singing abilities were not changed by this, so she went to singing lessons to get better at it, to insure she wasn’t screeching people to sleep.

Other:

Wanted to become a nurse?

Was dating Legend.

She was killed in an accident with an old superhero, Windfish. Windfish was able to take someone and himself to a constructed dreamscape. He lost control of his power one day, sucking both himself and Marin into a dreamscape. They both fell into a coma while Windfish tried to get them out. After nearly a month, he was forced to admit defeat, and was convinced by Marin to leave her behind. He woke up, leaving Marin trapped in a coma with no way to wake up. Her family decided to pull the plug on her life support. Windfish retired from hero work after that.

Arryl:

Status: Civilian

Power: Seagull Speak- She can communicate with seagulls. Her power hasn't actually manifested yet, but she does have a very odd affinity for the birds that other people have started to notice.

Shadow:

Status: Villain (?) (Deceased)

Power: He can melt into a shadow, becoming immaterial. If he had more time to master his powers, he would have discovered he was able to teleport short distances through shadows.

Other:

Shadow was an experimental clone made by Dink using Four’s DNA and Dink’s dark goop.

Unfortunately, Shadow is dead. Vio “turned traitor” to try and rescue him from Dink after it became evident he didn’t actually want to be a Villain, but failed in rescuing Shadow

No one except Vio and the Hero Agency knew that he was on a mission. Yeah, the betrayal angst was at full volume here

I keep thinking: the mirror that Shadow shattered, sacrificing himself? In this AU, it wasn't a mirror, it was the glass tank he was being kept in that was keeping him alive. You know the big cylinders you see in sci-fi movies with people floating inside of them? Those things. Shadow had to shatter his for some reason to save Vio, who'd gotten in too deep in the assignment.

#wow that was a lot #I'm probably never going to write anything in this au #It just came to me #linked universe #superhero au #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wild #lu wind #lu hyrule #lu sky #lu four #lu legend #lu ravio #lu malon #lu marin #lu shadow #swearing

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strbymacaroon · 8 months

Text

❀ VOLUME FOUR: LONG AWAITED VACATION ❀

THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN: DESTINY AND FATE

Eren Yeager x Reader.

Sypnosis:

An alternate universe where Attack on Titan and the Marvel Universe collide! Where the Spider-Man universes collide!

Where the new spider is the, one and only nerdy, Eren Yeager. Who happens to have a world stopping crush on you.

Genre:

Attack on Titan Marvel crossover, Spider-man and Eren Yeager crossover. Multiple parts.

Word count:

27.5 K Words.

『 VOLUME FOUR: LONG AWAITED VACATION…』: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ

Harry had always enjoyed the sweet, comfortable, life. Nothing too eye-catching, or exciting. Just a life where he could crack open a beer, sit back on his porch, lecture his kids over something they did, and enjoy his wife by his side. That was his dream, a loving wife, and dozens of children running around the house.

However, with who his father was, that dream would never be fulfilled. Harry wouldn’t be able to meet someone who genuinely liked him. Not even his father. In fact, his father liked Eren far more than he liked Harry. So, naturally, he spent his time trying to fulfill something else. He wasn’t favorably smart, Eren was smarter by a long shot, but he still enjoyed the technology produced by his father’s company.

In fact, Harry spent quite the amount of energy and time into his father’s company. Either with the workers, or personal projects of his own. School was a backburner option for him, he just attended because Eren went. His attention was caught up in Oscorp. Considering, he was going to be the one to inherit the company. Not by his father’s will, but by mere convenience.

But, his attention soon turned to a white haired girl.

Gwen. She was stunning. Her smile captivated him in a way he didn’t know was possible, and for once, someone didn’t see him for his father, she didn’t see Harry Osborn. Nor did she see Norman Osborn. When Gwen looked at Harry, she saw Harry, and it felt liberating.

Until she met a boy named Peter Parker. That’s when Harry didn’t even exist in her world, he just vanished.

And, that’s when Harry remembered you. Recalling how kind and beautiful you were. Of course, this was after Eren told him he didn’t get the job at Stark Industries, which was a lie Harry soon came to find out, and said he screwed his chance with you.

That's when Harry started to like you. Honestly, it wasn’t long at all. And, realistically, after hearing Eren gush nonstop about you, he practically fell for the person Eren idealized you to be. Of course, none of this attraction had anything to do with Gwen’s sudden loss of interest in him. Or, the fact that you were her best friend, that happened to be single.

Sure, Harry had known about you, everyone knows about you, and he thought you were more than attractive. But, he never thought to act on it, you were Eren’s crush. Which made you off limits.

For the entirety of college. Which he thought was stupid. He loved Eren, truly did. But, his crush on you seemed unhealthy, the two of you barely spoke, and when you did, Eren couldn’t get as much as a word out.

So, that’s why he kept it a secret. Kept you a secret. However, realistically, Harry didn’t want you, more or less like you in the way Eren did. You were the second option in his eyes, the revenge, or jab at Gwen. Which didn’t even work in the way he planned it to. Gwen was too smitten with Peter Parker to even pass him a single glance.

Annoying? Incredibly. But, there was nothing to be done, other than focus his attention on you. Until, the incident at La Rośe happened.

Harry didn’t mean to run, actually no, quite literally the opposite was supposed to happen. He was supposed to whisk you away to safety in his car, putting his life on the line to protect you, only to realize he had driven away with the wrong girl.

Fuck.

Harry ended up having his chauffeur drive her home, before giving you a call. That would ensure that you couldn’t hear a random drunk girl’s babbling over god knows what, it would only make you think the worst of him. And, after driving this random girl across the city, as soon as she stepped foot out of his car, he was calling you. In all honesty, Harry didn’t know what to say.

So, he did what he always did. Drive to Eren’s, and ask for advice. Of course, this led to the fall of their friendship, but it was what Harry needed. Eren was only holding him back from greatness.

“I’m so over it, I can’t believe she rejected me.” Harry spoke aloud, “I pulled so many strings to make that shit happen at La Rośe, and this is what I get in return.” Harry was genuinely upset, which set off many red flags for Reiner and Bertolt.

Reiner nodded his head, arms clasped behind his back. His heart sank with every word Harry spoke. This was the guy trying to be with you, the one willing to put you in intimate danger for the benefit of himself. He looked at Bertolt, speaking with his eyes.

It was frustrating trying to protect you from this man, while not being able to tell you why. And, you brother can’t even imagine what it’s like on your end. But, that’s how it’s always been for Reiner and Bertolt.

Bertolt didn’t say anything, just remained quiet. Glancing at the time. Just five more minutes, then they were off the clock. They wouldn’t have to continue to listen to how Harry put you in intimate danger. It hurt, stung even. But, that’s what they were paid to do, stay quiet, listen to whatever Harry said, and do what they’ve been told.

They were almost paid to be Harry’s friend.

Almost.

Reiner almost cringed when he spoke, “Spider-Man was said to be there.” His hands tightened around each other, “I heard he even saved her.”

Harry froze, his muscles tensing with pure rage. “What.” His voice was like never before, dark, intimidating, and hateful. “Spider-Man? Who the hell is that?” He seethed.

Reiner didn’t know what to call Spider-Man. I mean, he wasn’t necessarily a hero, more or less a villain.

“A new hero.” Bertolt spoke, “A vigilante may be a better term.” He tapped his foot on the ground, trying to calm his nerves.

That’s when Harry’s hatred for the wannabe hero Spider-Man. Not only did he steal his spotlight, he also stole your heart. As told by Reiner and Bertolt when they saw Harry the next day. Supposedly, they had run into you at the park, and caught up. Finding out about your new friendship with the friendly neighborhood vigilante. As well as admiration.

It only fueled Harry’s hatred even further.

So, now knowing that Spider-Man was in Oscorp, only had him pacing back and forth in his office. Reiner and Bertolt sitting in chairs, watching him stress.

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: Harry’s Private Office...]ˎˊ

Harry groaned, sitting in his chair, and looking at his computer. The sketchbook propped on his desk, mocking him silently. “So, that’s why your sister was here.” He whispered, “She didn’t want to make amends. She was here, because Stark Industries sent her to steal the sketchbook back.”

Reiner didn’t say anything.

Bertolt didn’t say anything.

“I figured.” Harry furrowed his eyebrows, “Seeing her without gloves was the clue that set me off.” He groaned annoyedly, “Fuck.” He tapped his foot on the ground rhythmically, “Of course Spider-Man had to be here too.” His head snapped to the brothers. “How the hell did that pass you two?”

Again, they were silent.

Harry rolled his eyes, running his fingers over the book, tapping his foot on the ground. It wasn’t long before his finger’s were meticulously tapping against his keyboard. Searching for one thing.

Security footage.

Harry’s eyes looked over the screen to the brothers, “It wasn’t a rhetorical question.” He looked back at his screen, “I want an answer. How’d that fly between you two?”

Because, we didn’t grow up villains fighting heroes. Reiner tightened his hand around the arm rest, “We were with you the entire time, except when you told us to meet you in the room.” He sighed, “Then, we went looking for you to take our sister home.”

Harry glared at Reiner, “Why? Why would you need to do that?” He tapped his fingers against his desk impatiently.

Reiner didn’t say anything, just shut his mouth. Diverting his eyes away from Harry. Harry remained quiet, letting silence fill the room. Reiner finally spoke, “I don’t think—“

“You’re not good for, Y/n.” Bertolt quickly spoke, his eyes trained on Harry. “We’re doing what we have to as her brothers. Whether she likes it or not.” The room went silent. Bertolt said it, he really said it.

Harry almost seemed shocked, but didn’t show it. Just kept his straight expression, “Huh. Is that so?” He looked back at the screen, “I’m guessing you’re just like that with everyone. Especially Spider-Man.”

Bertolt’s eyebrows furrowed, while Reiner spoke. “What?” He genuinely seemed confused, why did the vigilante Spider-Man matter in this. Sure, he saved you a few times, but he’s saved countless other lives.

“Yeah, I’ve been running some research, and found out that our Spider-Boy likes hanging out with Y/n.” He tilted his head to the side, “In fact, he was at Y/n’s place when you popped in for a surprise visit. What are the odds?”

Reiner could feel his hands around the armrest tighten, almost in anger. “That thing was near Y/n?” His foot was tapping against the ground impatiently.

Harry’s eyes caught sight of it. He looked back at the monitor, watching as the tape skimmed over the footage. “Yeah. So, I think you have other worries more important than my personal interests in your sister.” His eyes narrowed at the screen, “Remember, if Spider-Man catches me—“

“We know, we don’t need a reminder.” Reiner grit.

Harry smiled to himself, “Good.” However, his smile faded. Nothing. The cameras didn’t catch anything. Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, clicking the space on his keyboard, pausing the video. His eyes widened, his jaw going slack.

Nothing was caught by the cameras, except a split second frame from the top floor. And, the frame made Harry laugh, his hands cupping his mouth to suppress it from leaving his throat. “That fucker.” He mumbled, “That motherfucker.”

Reiner and Bertolt looked at each other, almost in disbelief. Not only with Harry’s reaction, but his crude language. Harry turned the computer screen to them, displaying a single frame of the elevator. And, holding onto it with a single strand of webbing, Eren.

Bertolt looked at Reiner, leaning into him and whispering, “Isn’t that the boy from the tent? From Y/n’s informational thing?”

Harry ignored Bertolt, just smugly sat back into his chair. “Looks like we found our spider.” He smiled to himself, “The two of you are excused.” Reiner and Bertolt silently pushed their chairs back, and made their way out of the room. “Oh, and.”

They paused, so Harry continued. “I love your sister, really do.” He hummed slowly, “I think you love her too, along with your mother, right?” Harry felt an intoxicated selfish version of satisfaction fill his body watching Riener’s fist clench. “So, I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to her, considering we now know she works at Stark Industries. Oh, along with Spider-Man.”

Bertolt glared at him, turning his head over his shoulder. “What are you trying to imply?”

Harry smiled, “Make sure Spider-Man keeps to himself. In any way possible. That way your sister is safe from—all the tension happening between the… companies. Yeah?” He tapped his finger against his desk. “Wouldn’t want her killed in the cross fire.”

The cold bullet shot through the hearts of Reiner and Bertolt. Making their blood run cold. Bertolt’s bottom lips quivered for a moment, “You said you loved her…”

“I love this company, and want to see it grow—thrive.” He corrected, before his teeth grit. “No matter how much I water the plant that is Y/n’s and I’s relationship, it won’t grow. It’s dead.” He waved them off, “I hope you understand.”

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: Eren’s Comfy Apartment...]ˎˊ

Armin’s eyes skimmed over the news article, an awkward grimace dusting his face. He scrolled down the page, “I guess that informational thing Y/n was doing really was for a reason.” Armin softly said, “Stark Industries is in hot water for not catching the Armored Titan yet.” Only going further down the page revealed more inflammatory statements about the company. Armin just closed the page, going back to his school work. “What do you think of the situation, Eren?”

Eren kept his face pressed into his pillow, his skin hot. He could still feel your body wrapped around his, holding on so tight. A single headphone held in his ear, playing a single song on repeat. Amor Eterno. “I don’t know what to do, I want to tell her. But, it’ll just put her in danger.”

Armin furrowed his eyebrows, annoyed that Eren just ignored his question, but gave his input either way. “I think you’re fine, Eren.” Armin spoke back, his finger tapping against the desk he was sitting at. “Y/n good at keeping secrets, hell, she’s been keeping a big one for her whole college experience.” Which was the short end of the conversation. Your story goes so much deeper.

Eren had told Armin all about you, he didn’t mean too. But, it slipped when he was expressing his happiness about how close the two of you had gotten. Both as Eren, and Spider-Man, okay, maybe not Spider-Man anymore… “That’s not the point, Armin.” Eren mumbled into his pillow, “I thought Spider-Man was the man for Y/n. But, I think she hates him now… because of me.”

Armin rolled his eyes, pushing his glasses to the crown of his head. He thought back to you, recalling your personality. “Eren, I’m pretty sure Y/n is incapable of hate, I think she’s just mad at–”

“She said she wanted to kill me.” Eren’s heart almost broke at the thought.

Armin rolled his eyes, “I doubt it.”

“She thought it, and said it to me.” Eren removed his face from his pillow, looking at Armin. “Even told me I didn’t deserve the suit.”

Armin’s eyes widened, “Damn.” He smiled, “She said that?”

Eren loudly groaned, “Stop smiling, it wasn’t fun to experience.”

“But, it sure is as fun as hell to hear.” Armin shook his head, “Wait, did she say that to you, or Spider-Man?”

Eren blinked a few times, trying to recall. “Spider-Man, no wait–she said that to me.”

“But, you’re Spider-Man.”

Eren felt his eye twitch, “Dude, you’re confusing the fuck outta’ me right now. Stop it.” He shook his head, “Anyways, we’re the same person, so it doesn't matter. What she told Spider-Man, is what she told Eren.” Not really, but close enough.

Armin loudly laughed, nodding his head. Gesturing his hand in a circle, “Fine, okay, okay. Continue.”

Eren shook his head, rolling his eyes, “Okay, back to what I was saying.” Eren sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t imagine what I’d do if I put Y/n in direct danger over my identity. And, Eren isn’t enough for–” Eren really needs to stop saying that.

Armin narrowed his eyes, almost with disdain. “Eren, I think you’re more than enough for anybody.” Armin pushed his glasses over his eyes, turning back to his computer. “If Y/n can’t see that, then she isn’t the one for you. Get someone who values you, for you.” Armin leaned his head back, pointing at himself with a smile. “Like me.”

“Fuck off.” Eren looked at the ceiling, whispering, “Karen told me that too.”

“Karen? Who’s Karen?” Armin raised his eyebrows, peering at Eren over his shoulder.

Eren almost flushed with embarrassment, before softly answering. “Suit-lady.” He wrapped himself with a blanket, looking at his phone. Seeing that you texted him, also seeing another person texted him. “I’m just–what happens if I do tell her, we get closer, then the armored titan uses that against me.”

“Eren, you realize you spend a lot of time with Y/n as Spider-Man. Either way, she’ll be targeted.” That thought hit Eren in the heart, pain shooting through his body. “I think your biggest concern should be that Y/n doesn't seem to be interested in relationships.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, “What?”

Armin gave him a look, “Eren, Y/n is hot shit. She knows everybody on campus, has been more than likable since freshman year, and probably has her own fanclub.” Armin swirled around in Eren’s swivel chair, “Yet, has she ever been in a relationship?”

Eren didn’t have the time to respond.

“Exactly. It takes her more than forever to make close friends, it literally took her all four years to become this close to you, as well as her close friends.” Armin cupped his chin, thinking. “So, in what world would she fall for Spider-Man? A faceless hero.” Armin pressed his lips together, “Think about it, she’s never going to get to know him, like she knows you.”

“Well, I–”

“Eren, really think about it.” Armin’s eyes softened, “I know you feel more confident with the mask, but I don’t think realistically Y/n would fall for him. In her eyes, he’s another Hero, and she works with a million of them. If Y/n truly didn’t care, she'd probably already be dating one by now.” Armin sighed, “In fact, she’d probably be dating someone by now.”

Eren sighed, leaning back on the palms of his hands. “I– I hoped she didn’t.”

Armin tapped his fingers against the desk, “If anything, I would think Y/n cares more for Eren than she does Spider-Man.” He smiled, “I mean, she was literally going to kill yo– Spider-Man for leaving you in the building.”

Eren tilted his head, “What does that mean?”

“I think it means,” Armin tossed a pen behind him, letting Eren catch it. Seeing as the tip was perfectly pointed at him. “Eren has way more of a chance of bagging Y/n, than Spider-Man does.”

Eren blinked a few times, “Huh?” He felt his face light up, burning with embarrassment. “Huh?!” He was practically shouting. “Wait, you think Y/n likes me?!”

Armin pressed his finger to his lips, silently trying to quiet his best friend down. He didn’t want the neighbors hearing Eren’s mental breakdown. “I think so. She clearly cares about you. Practically put her life on the line when it came down to it.” You were the one begging to go into Oscorp, and find Eren yourself. “So, yeah, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to consider it.”

Eren was practically beaming, his face tinted in a deep shade of red. Sure, he was more than smart, but he hadn’t considered the possibility of you liking him. It never even crossed his mind. He was too caught up in his own head to consider that possibility.

Armin laughed, cupping his mouth. “You just didn’t think about it, it’s okay.” Armin leaned his cheek on his hand, “This isn’t just about how you feel, Eren. This is also about how Y/n feels, even if you ended up revealing yourself as Spider-Man..” Armin sighed, “What if she doesn't want to be with anyone?...”

That was also a very considerable possibility.

Eren couldn’t help but smile to himself, “Good. If I can’t have her, nobody should.” Eren couldn’t even imagine you with someone else, it physically pained him. “If I ever died, I would want her to think about me for the rest of her life. Or, at least ten years.”

Armin shook his head, sassily rolling his eyes. “That’s not good Eren, if you’re that selfish, just tell her you’re Spider-Man, and enjoy the time of bliss, before it’s ruined by villains.” Armin held back a laugh, “That is, if she even wants to be with your emotional ass.”

Eren glared at Armin, “Armin, I want to. I desperately want to, more than anything in my life. But, I don’t know how’d I deal with–” Eren sighed, sitting up. Placing his hands over his face, “If anything were to ever happen to Y/n, because of me, I’d– I’d just lose myself.” The thought kept Eren up at night.

Armin let his eye wander over Eren’s almost pained expression, he couldn’t help but softly smile. He nodded his head, “I know.” He bit his bottom lip, eyes diverting to the side. “But, what if Y/n sees you the exact same way, what happens then? Are you just going to let her deal with that pain?”

Eren found himself silent, unable to answer.

Armin nodded, “See.” Armin started typing on his computer, “Just sleep on it some more, there’s pros and cons. It’s just a matter of what you want to do, and the situation.” Armin pointed a finger at Eren, stopping the sentence from leaving his mouth. “And, no. Don’t be stupid and try to live two different lives. Like you said, Spider-Man and Eren are the same person.”

“I don’t know, I’ll probably ask Happy about it.” Eren looked to the side, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. His arms wrapped around his body in a self soothing act.

Of course, these things hurt to say. Anything that pained Eren, pained Armin also ten times worse. But, he didn’t want to lie to his best-friend. So, he quickly added, “Also, keep in mind, these are all worse scenario outcomes. Which is most likely not going to happen.” Armin pointed at Eren, “You just like to overthink.”

Eren nodded, “Yeah, you’re right..”

“I’m always right.”

Y/n would say that.

The room fell silent, making Armin peek at Eren over his shoulder. Holding onto a pillow, still holding an expression that pained him. Armin rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t directed at Eren, it was directed at himself. He was such a simp for Eren, “How much do you care about Y/n?”

“More than anything.” Eren’s response was instantaneous, he smiled to himself, “I– Y/n can live without me, but I can’t live without her.” His hands around the pillow tightened, “I’m more than happy with admiring her from afar, that fact she’s so close to me is– I can’t believe it.”

“Then, shouldn’t you start pulling away altogether?” Armin could feel a part of his head scream at him to stop talking, but the words were spilling from his mouth. Unable to stop, “If anything, you’ve had your fun, maybe the best thing to do in this situation is completely avoid it.”

Eren nodded, the room falling silent.

Armin hugged himself, his chest almost aching. Eren’s phone rang, making his eyes drift to the screen. It was another text from you. Armin looked at the small screen, “Are you going to answer it?”

Eren didn’t say anything, just kept his eyes on his phone. Watching as the screen went black again. He bit the inside of his cheek, “I don’t want to–”

“How long?” Armin tilted his head, walking towards the bed, and picking up his phone. Seeing the two texts you sent him. He quickly unlocked it, checking his notifications. He felt a pain in his heart looking at your name on his phone. A plethora of emotions flooding his body.

Longing.

Desire.

Desperation.

Eren wanted to respond, but didn’t have the heart to do it. He was utterly infuriated with you. A part of him wondered if you could ever feel that way about him. Eren sighed, noticing there was another unread text notification, it was from Mikasa.

“Two weeks.” Eren finally informed.

Armin’s eyes widened, his eyes following Eren’s phone, then going back to his face. “You haven't replied in two weeks?!” He sighed, “Oh, Eren…”

“I know, I just… can’t.” Eren looked at his phone, seeing the text message from Mikasa. He quickly replied, then tossed his phone.

Armin tapped Eren’s shoulder, “Eren, the situation you’re in sucks, I know.” Armin stood up, stretching. “How about this, Y/n invited you to her yacht, use that opportunity to finalize your decision.” Armin pressed his lips together, whispering, “Or, hopefully, you’ll have your decision already made by then.”

Eren sighed, standing up with Armin. “Okay.”

Armin hated to admit it, but Eren was his weak spot.

His achilles heel. Armin had looked up to Eren since childhood, and seeing him so hurt damaged Armin in a way only Eren knew how. So, he said, “But, talk to Stark about it, maybe he can give you his two scents. He is dating Pepper while being publicly known as Iron-Man.”

Eren nodded, “Okay.” Despite his weak tone, he sent Mr. Stark a message. One that contained the majority of his doubts. But, I’m reality, it was more of a ‘We need to talk,’ that middle schoolers send their two-week old girlfriends.

Armin wrapped his arm around Eren’s neck, “Stop sulking, it’s sad.” Armin shrugged, “If anything, I bet you Tony isn’t going to care. He’ll probably tell you to follow your dreams, or something.” He pulled him towards the door, his eyes skimming over Eren’s phone forgotten on the bed. “Let’s go get something to eat, It’ll be my treat.”

Eren perked up, “Really?”

“No.”

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: Stark Industries… ]ˎˊ

Eren knew he would talk to Mr. Stark about his problems, but he didn’t think it would be the next day. He got a call and was at the building in less than a few minutes. However, the lobby was empty. Not even Pepper stood at the entrance to greet him.

Then again, it wasn’t too surprising. Stark Industries was under fire for the incident back at the plaza. Since Levi was seen there. Eren was surprised people we just getting mad now.

“Eren, c’mon, let’s go.” Happy’s voice echoed through the empty building, “Tony and Levi have been wanting to ask you some questions.”

Eren could feel his heart beat in his chest. It felt like… you got called to the school’s-office out of nowhere. Anxiety ridding your body as you slowly made your way to the building. Eren shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling them slowly become clammy. “Am I in trouble?”

Happy gestured behind him, silently telling Eren to follow him. “I don’t know. Well, I don’t think so. I think Bambi’s in trouble.” Eren’s anxiety only worsened. Happy made his way in front of the elevator, allowing Eren to enter before himself.

“Bambi?” That’s right, everyone called you Bambi. “What did she do?” Eren tapped his foot quietly against the ground. Looking around in the confined space. A part of him felt uneasy from being inside an elevator.

“I…” Happy looked away, “We’re just worried about her personal life.” He groaned, “Y/n wanted to keep her life private for her own reasons, but now that we know Spider-Man..” Happy glared at Eren, “..Has been pinning over her. We’re worried.”

Eren scratched the back of his head, his cheeks burning. “Why are you worried?…”

“We think Harry—“ Happy cut himself off, shaking his head. He shoved his hands into his pocket, looking straight. “Tony will tell you inside.”

Eren thickly swallowed, looking to the side for a moment. “Mr. Stark?… Did I do something bad?…” Eren leaned on the wall.

Happy pressed his lips together, “Have you replied to Y/n’s text yet?” Happy pressed the floor button, making the elevator door shut. “She was telling me how you haven’t answered her. She’s super pissed about it.”

Eren silently noted how Happy changed the subject. Although, Eren couldn’t help but think, Y/n talks about me? His cheeks darkened in color, his eyes slowly moving to the floor. “Did she?” Eren thickly swallowed.

“Yeah.” Happy narrowed his eyes at him, “Which is weird since you like her?”

Eren blinked a few times, almost taken aback. His eyes snapped to Happy, “How do you know that?”

“Eren, it’s obvious. I'm surprised she hasn’t figured it out by now.” Happy rolled his eyes, but it was playful. “Y/n’s so slow when it comes to romance.”

Eren smiled, “Is she?”

Happy nodded, “Yup. She thought Tony and Pepper were close friends, the two have been married for god knows how long now.” He sighed, a pleasant smile falling on his lips. “Bambi’s not the best when it comes to romance. To be honest, I don’t think she’s ever been in a relationsh—” Happy cut himself off, clearing his throat. “But who knows, you’d need to ask Y/n.”

Eren nodded, recalling back to highschool. Yet, no boy came to mind. Eren can’t remember if you were ever in a relationship. He nodded his head, “I’ll ask her.”

“That’s if you respond to her text.”

Eren cupped his face with embarrassment. “I know, I will.” His voice was slightly muffled by his hands.

“Are you sure she will respond?” Happy smiled, watching the doors open. “She’s been talking non-stop about her new friend, I think he’s coming for your place as her best friend.” Happy’s emphasis on ‘he’ worried Eren, because there was a hidden smile behind his words.��

Happy continued to the room where Tony and Levi were in. While Eren followed like a lost puppy behind him. “Tony’s stressed.” Happy voiced, “So, try to be aware of that while talking to him.”

It wasn't long until Eren knew exactly what Happy was talking about. Tony was scattered, his brother sitting comfortably at his desk, watching Tony slowly lose it. Papers were decorating the floor, and a bulletin resting in the middle of the room.

Levi looked at Eren, waving at him politely. Eren cocked his head at Tony a few times, silently asking; What’s wrong with him? Levi shrugged, “I’m waiting for him to calm down before asking questions.”

“I am calm.” Tony sighed, running his hands over his face. “Just… stressed.”

That’s the opposite of calm, but okay, Eren thought. He walked to the desk Levi was sitting at, leaning on the table and tilting his head at Tony. “Over what?” Eren asked.

“Bambi.” Tony’s voice seemed annoyed. “While cleaning up at Oscorp, Levi showed me something that was more than alarming.”

Levi nodded to himself, so that’s what this is about. “I thought you had this figure out already.” He responded.

Tony shook his head, and removed a picture from the billboard, making his way to Eren. “I thought so too, but it gets so much deeper than we originally thought.”

“Is she alright?” Eren asked, his heart speeding up. Shit, he should’ve texted you. If anything happened to you he’d never forgive himself…

Tony shook his head, “No–well, yes. She’s fine, but we don’t know how indefinite that is.” He placed the picture in Eren’s hands face down, patting it a few times. “It’s worse than your weird picture shrine.”

Eren’s face burst in flames, his face turning red. “I–I took that down forever ago..” He shook his head, flipping the paper over. His eyes widened, his jaw falling slack.

“We assume the only way this information could be obtained is by someone Y/n trust.” Tony slowly said, his foot tapping against the ground. “We know Bambi likes to keep this side of her private.” He gestured to the building, “That’s why this makes this so much harder.”

Eren placed the picture face down, his stomach turning. “You mean…”

“Y/n might be doing something behind our back.” Tony said, “Or, someone that she trusts is doing something behind her back.” He placed his hands over his face, “Jesus, that makes this so much more… difficult.”

Eren placed his hand on his arm, rubbing it soothingly. “Makes what so difficult?…”

Tony pressed his lips together, sending a knowing glance at Levi. “We have to put her on suspension until we know for sure what's happening…”

“What?!” Eren almost shouted, “But, we don’t know—“

“We’re doing this for the safety of Stark Industries. Knowing that Oscorp is now—“ Tony paused, thinking for a moment.

Levi pushed himself off the chair, walking to the bulletin board. “We now know Oscorp is trying to actively take Stark Industries down.” He scowled, “We hoped it would never come down to this. And if it did, it wouldn’t be this—aggressive.” He sighed, “Sure, there’s always been tension and fights, but we thought a mutual agreement to let eachother co-exist was fine.”

Eren looked at the bulletin, his eyes skimming over the pictures and letters. “I thought it was playful banter? Not… real?” He smiled weakly, “You know, a marketing tactic. Something for the press to talk about.”

Tony looked at Eren, “You think we’re rivals for the fun of it?” He asked, his eyebrow raising. “Majority of… big fights happen behind closed doors. We make sure the public isn’t aware of what’s happening. And, those are just recently occurring.” Those get ugly.

“Harry is probably the reason behind that...” Eren softly said to himself. So this is what Harry was holding Oscorp back from. “So, what are we going to do?” Eren could hear Happy sigh behind him in pain. That can’t be good.

“We’re going to keep a close eye on her, and completely restrict her access to Stark Industries until everything is settled.” Tony had his eyes closed, “And, it’s best to have…” Tony sighed.

Eren could feel everyone’s eyes on him, and suddenly he wasn’t feeling too good. “What?…”

“We know how you feel about Bambi.” Tony cautiously said, “And, until we settle everything, we need to keep a close eye on Bambi, from afar. As well as limit the things we tell her.” Suddenly, it clicked. The message Eren sent him the day before. Mr. Stark most likely knew what it was about, and was telling Eren his answer. “So, unfortunately, I think you shouldn’t tell Bambi…” He paused, “What you want to tell her.”

Eren pressed his lips together, a pained expression in his face. “So, I should keep my… feelings under wraps?…” He toyed with the collar of his shirt.

Tony shook his head, “I never said that.” You’re too scared to do that in the first place. “I think Spider-Man needs to keep his feelings under wraps. Or, create a safe distance.” Tony pointed sternly at Eren. “Happy’s been keeping me updated about your little friendship with her in the suit.”

Eren sheepishly smiled, “Oh, has he?…”

Tony nodded, “But… Nothing is stopping Eren.”

Eren felt—odd hearing that. Eren was the best friend that admired Y/n from a distance, not the boy who she loved up-close. Then again… Eren would give anything to hear you say that to him. So, maybe he could be a little selfish. “You think so?”

“Know so.” Happy said, before he coughed, “If she forgives you for ignoring her that is.”

“I realize how dumb that is now, Happy.” Eren grit. “Thank you for reminding me.”

Happy winked at him, “Anything for you, kid.”

Levi quickly spoke up, “I think we should just cease ties altogether. I’ve always been against Y/n’s involvement within Stark Industries. This is just another reason why I’m right.” He rubbed his temples, “Yet, here we are.”

Happy rolled his eyes, “Well, this is the current situation we’re in. We can’t sulk about something we can’t change.”

“Not true.” Levi spoke, “It’s not too late to terminate her.”

Tony glared at Levi, “You’re thinking with your heart Levi, stop it.” He adamantly said. That made Eren confused. Mr. Ackerman thinking with his heart? Seemed impossible. “Now, our biggest concern is stopping Oscorp from doing anything brash that could ruin the company, as well as the safety of Bambi. Since she’s clearly the target.”

Eren nodded, that’s most likely why Oscorp stole your sketchbook. “So, you want me to?—“

“We’re going to be the ones to keep an eye on the people surrounding her.” Tony said, “Obviously someone’s a mole in her friend group. We got to figure out who it is. It’s the best bet to get a direct link to Oscorp.” Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Even then, we have to decide what our further action with Oscorp is going to be.”

“Well, depending on the severity, we could sue them for defamation, trespassing, and so much more depending on how deep this web of lies goes.” A new voice emerged, making Eren quickly turn on his heel, his flight or fight fully activated. And, he was about to fight.

“Jesus kid, you can’t go fighting everyone who frightens you.” Tony said, walking to the properly dressed male. “Don’t mind him, he’s new to all of this.”

“It’s not Matt I’m worried about, Tony.” Levi said over his shoulder. Happy stifled a laugh. Eren glared at the both of them.

Tony cleared his throat, making everyone avert their attention back to him. “Eren,” Tony started, “This is Matt Murdock, our lawyer.”

Matt lifted his two fingers from his cane, giving a polite greeting to Eren. “Pleased to meet you, Eren.” He cocked his head to Tony, “Heard a few things from Tony.”

Eren smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “All good things I hope.”

“I hoped so, too.” Matt walked forward, ignoring Eren for a moment. “So, all we have on this company is a picture, and a stolen sketchbook?” Matt asked, clearly not amused. By everyone’s silence, he assumed so. “Well, it’s going to take some solid evidence to claim defamation, let alone sue for it. In fact, as of right now, if we did try suing for anything it'd be pointless.”

Happy pressed his lips together, “We know that, we’re not trying to sue as of today. As of right now, we need to confirm Oscorp is working with the Armored Titan, which becomes an illegal matter involving the government, and authorities. If not, we can’t do anything.” He reached into his pocket, his finger clicking a pen inside of it. “We’re not too worried about Oscorp taking Stark Industries down as a company, we’re more worried about the technology they’ve been developing and how they plan to use it against us.” Happy gestured to the people in the room, as well as your picture on the billboard.

“We’ll worry about what they actually want to do to the company later. We need to focus on what they’re going to do with Y/n, and the technology she designed. Which they basically have the blue prints for.” Levi rubbed his eyes with frustration, “God, the things in her sketchbook were government weapons, shit the public were never going to know about, more or less a company who wants to genuinely harm people with it. As shown with the second Green Bombing Incident.” Levi gestured to the bomb they ceased from Spider-Man not too long.

“Makes sense.” Matt replied, tapping the bottom of his jaw in thought. “But, that still doesn't change their end goal. We’re still the target of it, and we can avoid it if we find out who is related to the Armored Titan.” He turned his head over his shoulder, “And, you better pray those two incidents are related, because then we’d have two very big problems on our hands.” The idea of having to deal with two different individuals with ill intent would be… terrifying.

Eren tilted his head, “But isn’t that a given? We literally found Y/n’s sketchbook inside Oscorp. Isn’t that enough proof?” Eren tried to reason.

Matt shook his head, “No. Any half-decent lawyer can just say…” He thought for a moment, “Your Honor, my client and Stark’s witness have had relations outside of their work, of which could reasonably infer any misplacement of items belonging to either side being merely an accident.” Matt tapped his cane a few times, “And you better pray that girl doesn’t have anything that belongs to Harry. It would only prove their point right.”

“Y/n wouldn’t be that careless, especially about her sketchbook.” Eren argued, which he soon found to be pointless. It was a lawyer he was arguing with of all people. A really good one at that.

Matt smiled, “Believe me, I know that. I don’t doubt that for a second.” He reassured, “But, it isn’t what I think, it’s what the judge thinks, and messy college relationships isn’t something they like to hear about.”

Eren nodded, silently sighing to himself, “Right.”

“We need solid evidence, and names if we want to do anything. More or less want to protect ourselves if Oscorp is trying to do something. Which is extremely plausible with what Eren has told us.” Matt finished. The words, protecting you from Oscorp, bouncing in his head. That could never be a good thing, and could infer the company is really trying to do something… extreme. If only Eren caught Harry saying it on camera, or voice recording. That would make this so much easier.

“Until then,” Levi said, grabbing a piece of paper and handing it to Eren. “We need you to narrow down the list of people for us. We know about the little vacation Y/n’s going on, and how she’s only inviting her close friends. Perfect time for you to do this.” Levi took the picture from earlier in return. “See if any of those friends happen to be the mole.”

Eren looked at the list, his eyes narrowing in distaste. His eyes skimming over the names, “Armin? You put my best friend on this list?”

“You never know.” Levi responded. “We just need confirmation it is one-hundred percent none of these people. And, if you find out it’s someone, tell us immediately, and gather evidence.”

Eren noticed, written in red, was your brothers. He furrowed his eyebrows, “You put her brothers here? You’re just being paranoid now.” He shook his head, “I can’t even imagine how Y/n would feel if she saw this list.”

Levi shook his head, “Eren, I’m going to be honest with you. We’re doing this for her safety. She may not like it, but it’s what we have to do.” He sighed,

Eren tucked the paper in his pocket. “Fine.” His eyes watched as Levi put the picture back on the billboard, his stomach slowly spiraling in a deep pit.

On that piece of paper, was a tree of information, people, schools, and connections that were in any way related to you. A picture of you resting in the middle of all the vines of information. All found and documented from inside Harry’s office.

ˋˏ★ [ Location: Your Comfy Apartment...]ˎˊ

You jumped on your bed, hands holding your friends while he jumped with you. “This isn’t helping.” You softly voiced, your pigtails jumping up and down dramatically. “I mean, I sounded like I would when you suggested it in class, but I feel sad.”

He nodded, “Yeah, me too.” The two of you stopped jumping, falling down on your bed. His black hair fluffed up from jumping, you laughed, quickly fixing his, very short, pigtails. He smiled from your touch, “I mean, it was fun for like—ten minutes.”

You laughed nodding your head, “Yeah, I agree.” You looked to the side, thinking, “What was the other thing you suggested?” You played with the sleeves of your shirt, pulling it over your palms.

“Spa day?” He responded.

You loudly sighed, leaning into his arms, a pout on your lips. “But that’s something I want to do with Eren…” He laughed against your hair, letting you dramatically complain. “Ugh, I can’t believe he’s ignoring me.” You cried, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“He’s not ignoring you.” He cooed, tapping your back comfortingly. “He’s just—confused?…” he shrugged, “Honestly, I don't know, boys are really confusing. We do stupid shit without reason.” He pulled on the pink hair-ties holding up your pigtails, then removed his own.

You nodded in agreement, “I know, have you met Connie?” You rolled your eyes, looking up at him. “He’s the embodiment of a middle schooler who moans in the back of the class, and thinks he’s so fucking funny.”

He laughed, running his hands through your hair. Fixing the almost messy look to them, “It’s kinda’ funny.”

“Marco.” You deadpanned.

Marco was the boy you met during lunch while he was working at Panda Express. A man who loved writing, and poetry. Along with many other typical things, it annoyed you how perfect he was. You had met him a long while ago, back when you were in highschool. When your dad held a party for his friends. Sure, you didn’t know it was Marco at the time, but it was a fun discovery in college. Also that Marco was just as, if not more, rich as you.

Which was ironic considering he was the worker serving you at Panda Express. But, he was perfect nonetheless. The two of you clicked just as you did at the party. It almost threw you off, everybody you knew ended up coming full circle in your life.

Marco smiled, pushing his messy bangs from his eyes. “Y/n.” He replied in a similar fashion, smiling kindly. It was a small thing the two of you did. Before his eyebrows furrowed, “Is Eren your best friend?”

You nodded, “I thought it was obvious.”

Marco nodded, his lips pressed together trying to hide his amused expression. “And, you like Eren, right?”

You nodded again, “Again, I thought that was obvious.”

“So, you like him?” Marco asked.

You paused for a second, “Wait, do you think I like–like Eren?” You pulled yourself away from him, sliding your hands from his arms. Marco nodded. “Hm, that’s weird. Jean said the same thing.”

Marco nodded, “Makes sense. It kinda’ seems that way.” He titled his head to the side, “I mean, what’s stopping you from thinking that?” You tilted your head, and Marco continued, trying to clarify his sentence. “Like… Why are you calling him your best friend? What’s stopping you from saying you like him?” You didn’t say anything. “It’s not a trick question, it's genuine. Why is he just your best friend?”

You bit your bottom lip, “Uhm, I don’t know?… What am I supposed to say?”

Marco sighed, “Okay, uhm… Oh! Why do you see Jean as just a best friend?”

You smiled, “Jean’s sweet, just not for me. He has his own things going on, and I want to support him as a friend, not a lover. Just never imagined myself being with—more or less marrying him.” You tapped your fingers against the bed, “He’s too much for me, not someone I want to be with. But, I love him as my best friend.”

Marco nodded, “Okay, then why are you just friends with Connie.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ugh, Connie. Love him to death but sometimes he drives me there. If I ever kill myself, his name is one hundred percent in my suicide note.” You laughed, “If anything, I hope he gets with a big-booty latina. That’s his dream girl.”

“How do you know—“

“He’s told me.” You placed your hand on Marco’s shoulder, “Multiple times.”

Marco laughed, “Fair. Uhm… What about me?” He nodded his head.

Your eyes softened, “I adore you Marco, but I wouldn’t want to date someone I just met. And, I love our friendship the way it is.” You coughed, adding a quick, “Plus you’re gay.”

Marco glared at you, “Ignoring that.” He gritted, “Then, why are you just friends with Eren?”

You parted your lips, “Uhm. Eren’s—he’s great, but…” You sighed, “But, I just see him as a good friend…”

Marco gave you a look, “Y/n, I don’t even think you’re convinced about that.” He laughed, “I know I’m not.”

You laughed, “Yeah, but… I don’t know. It’s weird.”

Marco tilted his head, “Do you want me to be honest with you?” You slowly nodded. Marco smiled, “I think naming Eren as your “best friend,” is wrong. You’re just confusing yourself.”

You laughed, playing with a strand of your hair. “Imagine how I feel.” You sighed, blinking a few times, “Crushes are supposed to be fun, but this is–this is just confusing.” You grabbed the bottom of Marco’s shirt, “Maybe I’m just hurt he’s ignoring me.”

“Eren isn’t ignoring you, Y/n.” Marco repeated, but he patted your back comfortingly.

“He’s probably talking to that hot girl, Mikasa, or whatever..” You mumbled.

Marco laughed, shaking his head. “But hey, if it really bothers you, just talk to him on your yacht and clear things up. Maybe, it’ll even help you sort your feelings out.” He pulled your hair together, using one of the previous hair ties to keep your hair back.

You pouted, looking at him with your wide eyes. “Maybe..” In fact, you didn’t even know if Eren was still going. Since his dumbass had yet to respond to any of your messages or calls. A part of your heart stung thinking about it. “I think I like him..”

“As a friend?” Marco asked.

You shook your head.

“As a lover?” Marco followed.

You hesitated, but ultimately shook your head.

Marco tapped his knee a few times, “Have ever you wanted to be in a relationship since joining college?”

You shook your head, “No. I–I think that…” You pressed your lips together, “Every guy that I talk to, it feels like they… like the idea of me.” You ran your hands over your face, “It’s so confusing–I’m so confused.” You were visibly getting frustrated, your hands tightly holding onto the sheets of your bed.

“And that’s okay, you have all the time in the world to figure out your emotions, and thoughts.” Still, Marco wanted to know what was holding you back from admitting what is so obvious. “Uhm, when was the last time you were in a relationship?”

You turned away embarrassed, “I’ve never…” You mumbled the rest, but Marco already knew your answer. He didn’t need to hear it.

“Okay, when was the last time you liked someone?”

You immediately looked uncomfortable, memories from high school popping in your head. “Like, four years ago. Back in high school.” Your arms subconsciously wrapped themselves around you.

Shit, I completely forgot about that. Marco hid the grimace he wanted to make, “Right.” He tapped his hand against your bed a few times, “Uhm, Y/n, have you ever thought that maybe?… Porco almost traumatized you about crushes. Or, maybe how people reacted to it.”

You tilted your head to the side, “But, I never even dated Porco?” You laughed, but it seemed forced. “I can’t be traumatized over someone who I didn’t even interact with. And, Annie was young and dumb, I don’t care.”

“Yeah, but that was four years ago, and you still remember her name.” Marco gave you a half-smile, “Or when you get hurt when hearing people talk about loved ones.” Marco looked to the side, “Or, when you see old people alone.”

You felt a tear building in your waterline, “It’s heartbreaking.”

Marco laughed, “Exactly, but you never dated them. But, you can still be hurt by the situation.” He shrugged, “And, I think the first time you spoke to your crush, with the situation that happened, mentally killed the idea of any others.” He put his hands up, “And, you never really—experienced boys, or relationships in high school.” And you had your father as a horrible figure in your life, which could be a part to play.

You forced a weak smile, your eyes falling to the side. “Yeah…” You shrugged, “I don’t know. I never thought about it like that.” Sure, you’ve hooked up with people, but the thought of it going any further gave you goosebumps. You chewed on your bottom lip in discomfort.

Marco looked to the side, sure this was an embarrassing topic for him, but he needed to change it for your sake. He didn’t like seeing you so–confused, and pained. He averted his eyes from you before softly saying, “You were talking to Jean?...” His hands fidgeted together.

You tilted your head, confused on why that caught his attention. “I mean, yeah? He is like my best friend.” You slowly said, “Why?” You pulled your hands into your lap, playing with the bottom of your shorts.

Marco blinked a few times, “Uhm, I–I don’t think he likes me.” He softly said, his cheeks tinted pink. “In fact, I think he hates me.” There was an awkward laugh following his sentence.

You had to suppress the smile building on your lips. You turned your face away, laughing into your shoulder. You couldn’t help but think of Eren and Jean’s feelings about him. “I don’t think he hates you.” You reassured, “But, I—he’s never brought you up, so I wouldn’t know.” You whispered, your voice cracking with laughter.

“It’s not funny.” Marco said, pushing you playfully. “But, he doesn’t talk about me?” He tapped his fingers, “Weird.”

You tilted your head confused, “Why is it weird? I thought you said–”

“He talks to me everyday, I thought he would’ve at least mentioned me.” Marco softly said, swinging his feet off your bed. “I mean, we were texting non-stop when he was with you one time.”

You tilted your head, “Really?” You pushed yourself off your bed, walking towards your desk. “Do you remember when that happened?”

Marco looked at the roof, clearly in thought. “Uhm… if I remember correctly..” He tapped his bottom lip, before his eye lit up with realization. “Oh! It was when you were doing this informational thing. It was the day of your party.”

Your jaw dropped, “That was you?! He was smiling at his phone, because of you?!” You could feel your eyebrows mush, a smile spreading across your lips. “Wait, are you two sleeping together?!”

Marco’s face burst out in flames, while his hands frantically shook back and forth. “I’m sorry?!” He shouted, “What are you talkin—no! We’re not sleeping together!”

You smiled, leaning into him. “But you wish you were..” You sang playfully.

“I think he’s cute, but that’s all.”

You gave Marco a knowing look, before walking out of your room into your kitchen. “Sure, if you say so.”

“I mean it!” Marco followed behind you, throwing a stuffed animal at your face. Only to jump at the sound of… Scratching? Maybe, even tapping? He pulled his head to look back at your room, noticing the sound was coming from your window. But, we’re four stories up? How is that possible?

You turned over your shoulder, peering at Marco. “What’s wrong?” You smiled, walking backwards to talk to him. “You know I’m joking, babe.” You stopped, tilting your head to the side. Seeing that his attention was completely captured by something in your room. “Wait, what’s wrong?..”

Marco looked back at you, tearing his attention from your window. “Y/n I think there’s something at your window.” He walked back into your room, still speaking. “Is it Luna? Or, Daisy?”

You felt your heart drop, Spider-Man flashing across your mind. You quickly walked after Marco, grabbing the back of his shirt in an attempt to stop him. “No, it’s probably the bird who keeps coming by. Don’t worry about it.” You tried reassuring, but it didn’t seem to work.

Marco smiled, pulling away from your touch, his hand on your curtain. “Don’t worry, if it keeps coming by there’s probably a nest nearby. We don’t want that planted right on your window.” The sound erupted again, making Marco laugh. “See, the poor thing probably wants our help.”

You shook your head, “Even more reason not to check it, we could scare the poor thing… away…” Marco was glaring at you, giving you a look that made you feel stupid. He shook his head, pulling back the curtain. You almost tackled him, but decided that would most likely make the situation worse.

Marco laughed, opening the window, popping his head out. “Hey, what are you doing up here?” He cooed, reaching his hand out.

You internally cringed, you mind racing with excuses. “Marco, look..” You slowly started, “Remember, how I said I work with Stark?”

“Yeah?…” Marco brought his head back into the room, his hands gently holding two cats. A hairless one, and a back one. He tilted his head while raising an eyebrow at you, “It’s just your cats, I don’t know why you’re so freaked out.”

You blinked a few times. Crap, you completely forgot they found a way to climb up to your room.

You awkwardly laughed, slowly nodding your head. Walking to your bed and peeking out the window. Looking around, “Right, it’s just my… cats.” You shook your head. That’s right, Spider-Man and I are on no speaking terms. Your heart stung for a moment, but it didn’t linger.

Sure you adored Spider-Man, cherished the short friendship you had, but you weren’t necessarily deathly-attached to him. And with the most recent incident of Oscorp, it cleared the question of; Eren, or Spider-Man. Your answer, dramatically, not being Spider-Man.

Then again, if Spider-Man were to come visit you, and ask to revisit the screaming match between the two of you, mostly you, you’d accept. Have a more civilized conversation about what happened, and mend the distance you placed between the two of you. The worst part being, you felt guilty… Spider-Man was just doing what he was told, and you took your anger, fear, and confusion out on him.

Marco tilted his head, looking back at you. “But, what about Stark?...” His eyes scanned up and down your face, seeing as your eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. Maybe even a hidden pain, “Hey, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy to see your cats.” Marco lifted the fluffy animals into the air for a moment.

You weakly laughed, sitting down on your bed and petting Daisy. “Yeah, they’re fine.” You let yourself fall back into your sheets, “I’m just…” You sighed, “I’m so stressed about everything happening.” You looked at Marco, “I’m scared I ruined an amazing friendship, and I’m scared Eren’s ignoring me.” Or worse, giving all his attention to that hot Mikasa girl.

Marco smiled at you, it was comforting. “I know.” He leaned down, holding his head up with his hand. “Shit, Y/n, you really do need this vacation.” Marco cheekily smiled, poking your side, and whispering. “With Eren.”

You playfully punched him, “Shut up.” You smiled, leaning into Marco. “I’m joking, but I do like the idea of that.” You poked his shoulder, then cheek. Your eyes caught by the mirage of freckles decorating his face.

Marco laughed, his eyes following your hand. “I know, but—“ Marco paused mid sentence, a plastic bag hitting his face. You burst out in a cackle, pointing and laughing at him. Marco groaned, peeling the bag from his face. “Gross…”

You pulled away from him, looking back out your window. Still laughing, “I can’t believe that just happened.” You mumbled, “I swear, you’re so unlucky.” You took the bag from him, pushing yourself off your bed and throwing it in the small trash located under your desk. “Here, let me grab some food for the cats, wait here.” You quickly ran off, almost slipping once you turned the corner of your door.

Marco just laughed. Before his eyes looked outside, hardening almost instantly. He twisted on his stomach, feeling your two cats jump on his back while he looked out your window again. He could’ve sworn…

“Got it!” You shouted, walking back into the room and opening the can of cat food. Making your two cats jump off his back and onto the floor, feverishly diving for the food. You laughed with amusement.

“Hey, Y/n?” You looked at Marco, nodding your head. “Are you frien–” He shook his head, “Are you driving me?”

You tilted your head, making your way to the bed and falling on top of Marco’s back. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your face between his shoulder blades. “Yeah, I think so? Do you mean like, back to your house? Or, to my–”

“Yeah, both.” Marco nodded.

You laughed, your chest bouncing up and down on his back. “I drive you everywhere Marco, I like being your chauffeur.” You paused, looking up for a second. “Just not right now, I’d much rather walk you with the traffic.”

Marco smiled, dropping his face into your sheets and laughing.

Your cats jumped on your bed, rubbing against your shoulders. You and Marco watched as they made their way outside your window, climbing further up the fire escape. You smiled against his shoulder, “I swear, they’re just using me for food.”

Marco shook his head, “I don’t think so, they probably love you more than anything.” Marco shrugged, “Then again, they are cats, so I wouldn’t doubt it.”

Daisy and Luna jumped up the stairs of the fire escape, twisting around narrow ledges and thin steps. Jumping up windows, before they reached the roof. Meowing loudly, and purring at the person standing there. Daisy ran her body against his leg, looking up at him and meowing. However, his attention was caught by something else.

Eren was going to kill that guy. Marco, or whatever the hell his name was, he didn’t care.

Okay, Eren wasn’t going to kill him, but he certainly wanted to.

Fine, he didn’t want to kill him, but he was definitely jealous, maybe internally crying. But, that should be him. So, Eren will settle for throwing plastic bags in his face, and any other garbage floating around New York. Which was… a lot.

Karen slowly started, “Eren, I respect the initial idea of speaking to Y/n, and apologizing. But, I don’t think this counts–”

“I–I agree, don’t worry.” Eren said, cutting off Karen. “This is really a bad habit I need to break, but…” He sighed, falling back onto the roof, looking at the sky. “I don’t know…”

“Why don’t you text her.” Karen spoke, “It can be something simple. For example, confirming your involvement in the trip she’s hosting for her friends.”

Eren popped his head up, almost comically. “That’s a great idea!” Karen sighed. Eren clicked the side of his eye, making a list of contacts appear in his eyesight. He clicked your name, cringing internally seeing the array of unresponded messages. He sent you a message of confirmation.

Eren nodded to himself.

“Happy with yourself?” Karen asked.

“Yeah.” The area filled with comfortable silence, before Eren’s ears perked to the sound of–screaming?

“Marco! Oh my god! He finally texted me!”

Eren’s heart fluttered in his chest, both of his hands cupping his face. His face burned in a dark shade of red. Goddamn it. Thank god for the mask.

“Better start packing for your vacation trip with Y/n, Eren.”

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: Passenger Seat of Happy’s Car...]ˎˊ

You looked out the window, hues of cool colors decorating the sky while the sun was close to setting. Wispy clouds filling your vision like an old renaissance painting, it was gorgeous. Your window was rolled down, letting the warm air in. It was finally getting to the time of year, which also meant graduation was getting closer.

You tapped the screen of your phone, chewing on your fake nails with anxiousness. Your foot tapping against the ground quickly, “Are sure Eren is driving there? He didn’t want us to pick him up?” You asked Happy, turning your body to look at him.

“Yes, I spoke to him.” Happy responded, for the tenth time. You seriously killed him sometimes. “He’s driving here with his friends.” His grip on the steering wheel tightened for a second.

You didn’t notice, “Really? I don’t remember him ever mentioning he had a car.” You bit the skin off your bottom lip, “Are you sure, I mean–why would you have a car in New York? What are going to do with it? It’s not like you can drive anywhere–”

Connie’s hands grabbed your shoulders from the backseat. “It’s gonna’ be okay, Y/n.” He shook them gently. Sasha on the other hand was stuffing her face with food, “Yeah, exactly.” She blinked a few times.

You sheepishly smiled, nodding slowly. Happy sighed with relief, Connie saved him from bashing his head into the steering wheel. Sasha shoved another chip in her mouth, “By the way,” she chewed loudly, “Why is Happy, the best friend of Tony Stark, driving us to your yacht?”

You laughed, shrugging. “Connections.” You slowly said, “I know a lot of people.” My dad knows a lot of people, would be the more correct statement. But, you know, fuck that dude.

Connie turned to Sasha, smiling and whispering, “Rich people problems.” Sasha laughed, popping a chip in Connie’s mouth. “Couldn’t be me.” She replied.

You rolled your eyes, looking out the window. Watching the other cars and trees pass by. It took forever to get to your yacht, and you still had to pick up one more person. Well—technically, Happy had to pick up one more person. And it wasn’t long until he was sitting in the car, singing his heart out with Sasha and Connie in the back.

You tapped your thigh rhythmically, a habit you developed recently. The soft sound of skin hitting skin comforting you in an odd way. Although, it was slightly muffled by your short, lacy, white gloves.

Happy looked at you, placing his free hand on your head. “Loosen up, Bambi.” He tapped your head a few times, “Talk to him, that’s all you need to do.”

You smiled, “Yeah, I know.”

Arriving at the dock was a vivid experience of memories. All from old family vacations and trips. Some included business affairs, in which you would be forced to become buddy-buddy with your father’s friends. You felt… uncanny, uncomfortable, even. A cold shiver going down your spine as a pit in your stomach grew.

Was it the yacht? Was it the memories you have associated with the yacht? Maybe. You honestly didn’t expect to feel this way. You thought this would be a fun adventure with your friends, not a trauma relapse about your shitty parents… Just ignore it.

“Alright,” Happy said, parking the car, and effectively snapping you out of your head. “You kids stay safe, and have fun.” He smiled at you, “Don’t get eaten by a shark.”

You flashed him a smile, but ultimately nodded. “Can’t mark any promises.” You waved him off, feeling a hand crawl around your shoulders. Pulling you into their body.

“Ready for sexy tan lines, and wet water?” Connie said, pulling you to walk along the deck with him. Not only because he wanted to talk to you, but also because he had no clue which yacht was yours. “Because, I fuckin’ am.” He lifted his glasses to the crown of his head.

You laughed, following him mindlessly. “Of course, I’ll even let you use my bikini if you really want.” You playfully winked at him, grabbing the Hawaiian button up he was wearing.

“Fuck, yeah.” Connie shook his hips, bumping into you a few times. “Clutch your pearls, Y/n. I’m going to be the sexist one on that boat.” Sasha twisted her body around, walking backward while she spoke. “Like hell, have you seen this body?” She dramatically gestured her hand down her torso.

“I’ve been hitting the gym…” Marco slowly started, but stopped his sentence. Then, he corrected it, “I got a gym membership, so, I suggest hiding your children. I got the power of, ‘I’ll go at some point,’ by my side.”

Everyone broke out in laughter, while you placed your hand on your chest. “No, literally me.”

Connie looked around, scooting closer to you. “But… which one’s yours?” His eyes danced over all the white water-vehicles, and brand names. Jesus, did one of them say Gucci?!

You walked down the dock of expensive boats, your eyes skimming the area. “Once you see it, you’ll know.” You replied, “Honestly, that’s how I remember it sometimes… Or, I think it’s because my last name is on it.” Your voice wavered, a familiar face catching your attention. You smiled, tearing away from Connie. “Mr. Nile!” You shouted, engulfing him in a hug. “It’s so good to see you! Haven’t seen you since the divo–”

“Jesus kid, learn what and what not to say.” Nile spoke, pushing your sun hat over your face and effectively cutting off your sentence. “I don’t need to be reminded of that mess.”

You bashfully smiled, “Yeah, sorry. Just excited.”

Nile smiled at you, his hands on your shoulders. “You’ve grown kid, you look gorgeous.”

You smiled, pulling back and twirling around. “Thank you! I got it hand made by someone back in California.” You said, “I thought it would be perfect for the occasion.” You were wearing a one-piece, white, short sleeved, sailor dress. The ends of the dress pleating out to frame your body. Along with some nice black flats, decorated with lacy socks to match with your gloves.

“I was talking about you, but the dress is nice.” Nile tapped your shoulder a few times, “Your brothers too, they’ve been hitting the gym.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, a confused smile splitting your lips. “My brothers? You’ve seen them recently?” You peaked over his shoulder, “Were they at the yacht before us?” Is that why it was a mess?

Nile gave you a confused look, but he was distracted by the people behind you. He pointed at them, “What’s with them?”

You looked over your shoulder, seeing your friends utterly shell-shocked. Well, except for Marco. You blinked a few times, confused. “What?” You looked back to your yacht, “I mean, I didn’t clean it, so ignore the mess.”

Sasha cupped her face, “I love her, but she’s so out of touch with reality.” Sasha pointed at your massive yacht, “No, we’re looking at how big this thing is.”

Oh, that’s why. Marco wasn’t fazed, because you’re pretty sure his father owned a cruise ship.

You placed your hand on your chin in thought, “Honestly, I remember it being bigger.” You shrugged, “Maybe it’s because I was a child last time I was on this thing… Or, maybe it’s time to get a bigger one.” Anything to make my father’s pockets hurt. This boat wasn’t even bought by your father, it was part of a contract he signed with a company he worked with. You couldn’t remember the price of the yacht off the top of your head, but you wouldn’t be surprised if it hit nine digits. Your father had always been one hell of a bargainer, and you couldn’t imagine him not putting up a fight if wads of money weren't directly involved.

Connie pouted his lips, looking to the side, before whispering, “…That’s what she said.”

Marco laughed, turning away. You gave him a rude, but knowing glare. He tried stifling his laugh. “Ignore my friends.” You told Nile, before you shook your head, pointing at all of them. “Sorry, everyone, this is Nile Dok, he’s our personal helmsman. I’ll introduce you to our personal chef, Niccolo, later.” You waved your hand dismissively.

“You have a personal chef?” Sasha almost shouted, she smiled to herself, grabbing the back of her sun hat. “Oh my god, if this is heaven, I hope I stay dead forever.”

Marco furrowed his eyebrows, “That’s kinda’ how it works?…”

Nile smiled, turning on his heel. Heading off into his room, “I’m sailing off in a few hours, better have everyone on board.” You politely waved goodbye.

Connie nodded a few times, “He’s cool.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “C’mon, I’ll show you around when everyone gets here.” You waved for them to follow you, taking a step on the obsidian-black boat. A choice your mother made when first shopping. You tossed your shoes off, walking on the deck, and up the small flight of stairs. A cold shiver went down your spine, the pit in your stomach growing. Maybe you did have some suppressed trauma from this stupid boat. “Here, we’ll just stay in the outside lounge until everyone arriv–”

“I thought you said you were going to get the boat deep cleaned before she got—“ The three of you made eye contact, and your face contorted into one of pure hatred.

You’ve got to be fucking me right now, you thought. “What the hell are you two doing here?” You placed your hands on your hips, your friends standing behind you. You could feel the smile on Sasha’s lips.

“We were just…” Reiner sighed, placing his hand on his neck, scratching it awkwardly. “We’re coming with you..”

“The fuck you’re not!” You shouted.

Connie looked at Sasha, and Sasha looked at Connie. Sasha cupped her mouth, and whispered, “She did it again.” Connie laughed, leaning into Sasha and whispering, “She’s growing so fast, I feel like a daddy.” Connie lifted his eyebrows suggestively, but it just looked like he was surprised. Sasha shoved him into the water.

You shoved your brother back, but he didn’t budge. “Seriously, the one weekend I want to use the yacht you have to be here.” You scoffed, “I swear, you’re the worst. Literally, leave.” You said, genuinely annoyed.

“We have to stay…” Bertolt softly said.

“Sit your quiet ass down, Bertolt. You don’t have a single word in this conversation.” You seethed, pointing at him. “You wanted to stay quiet when we’re kids, now stand by that.” You looked back at Reiner, “You, fuck off. This isn’t fair to me.”

“Did you even ask dad if you could use the yacht?“ Reiner spoke, hands on his hips.

“I asked Mr. Dok.” You pushed him again. You parted your legs, positioning yourself in a way to use more force. “Don’t make me push you off.”

“Like hell.” Reiner responded. “Besides, if dad finds out you were on the boat without his permission, he’ll sue you for trespassing.” He smiled, “You need us here.”

You hated how he was right. You let out a loud groan, pulling your hands back and grabbing your hat, “Fine, but I don’t want to see your dumbass anywhere near my friends.” You seethed, “Okay?”

Reiner didn’t respond, and Marco placed his hands on your shoulders. “C’mon Y/n, don’t let it get to you.” He smiled, wiggling your shoulders softly. He leaned in, whisperering, “And maybe, this can be a healthy way to slowly rebuild your relationship.”

You looked back at Marco, softly sighing. Your brows furrowed with anger, but ultimately, they relaxed. You blinked a few times, “You think so?”

Marco nodded, “Mhm.” He squeezed your shoulders reassuringly, “Just cool off before anything, it’s okay to be mad.” He whispered.

You just nodded, taking a few deep breaths.

“That’s all the luggages.” Happy said, propping your vintage suitcase up. An array of men behind him with all your friend’s belongings. “Do you think anything is missing?” Happy asked.

You shook your head, looking at your friends and seeing they also shook their heads. “Nope, looks good.” You gestured for him, and his friends, to place everything on the boat. You glanced back over the boat, looking at the sun. Seeing as it was finally setting over the horizon, you looked around. Where’s everybody else?

And, as if the god’s heard you themselves, a distinct voice popped from the dock. “That’s right, the best thing that ever happened to you guys is here.” Jean said, putting his hand in the air.

Connie looked at Jean, his eyebrows raising suspiciously. “Wait, since when were you guys chill again?” Connie narrowed his eyes, “Or, do we have a stowaway?…”

You turned over your shoulder, laughing. “Like a week ago, Connie. And, Jean was invited.”

Connie raised his eyebrows, “Hm. That was quick.” Sasha nodded, tapped Connie’s shoulder with her own, “That’s what I thought. But hey, that makes this vacation more fun.”

Jean pinched the top of his shirt, pulling it gently while smiling. “Hold onto your panties ladies, don’t need to drop them just… yet…” Jean’s eyebrows visibly furrowed, his expression displaying one of utter confusion.

You smiled widely, biting your bottom lip in an attempt to suppress it and utter excitement. Your eyes snapped to what could possibly catch Jean’s attention so intimately.

Marco.

Marco looked Jean up and down, a smile building on his lips. He titled his head to the side, lifting his hand ever so slightly and waved. His lips mouthing, “Hi, Jean.” Marco smiled, his dimples denting into his skin perfectly.

Jean’s lips twitched, before he ultimately smiled, waving weakly. “Hi.”

Connie looked at Sasha and raised his eyebrows, an amused smile building on his lips. Connie grabbed your hand, pulling you between himself and Sasha. “My gaydar is going off right now, and I can’t tell if it’s from Marco or Jean.” Sasha nodded frantically.

“Jean?” You whispered dramatically, feigning shock or disbelief. “I doubt that, last time I checked he said he wanted to marry me.” You replied.

Sasha shook her head, “Everyone wants to marry you, Y/n. But, that,” Sasha pointed at Jean, “That is a look of a gay man, down bad.”

“You guys are overthinking.” You softly replied, but you didn’t disagree. And, knowing how Marco felt about Jean, you wondered if his feelings were reciprocated. Did Jean think Marco was cute?

Connie jumped forward, grabbing his Spider-Man backpack. “Since everyone’s here, I think I should explain the game plan.” Sasha looked at Connie, “I thought I told you not to bring drugs?” Connie shook his head, “I didn’t.”

Jean raised his head, throwing his bags on the ground. “I did.”

Sasha threw her arms in the air dramatically, “There goes your streak, Connie.”

Marco waved his hand dismissively, “It doesn't count if it’s weed.” Jean softly laughed, his eyes flickering to Marco for a brief moment.

Connie pointed his finger, a smile on his lips. “See. I like this guy, he knows what’s up.” He opened the bag, grabbing one of the items inside. “But, to get this party started.” He lifted one of the cans, shaking it. The rattle inside loudly hitting the sides of the can.

You pressed your lips together anxiously, looking at the time on your phone. You tapped your foot anxiously, looking back at the sky. “Give it a moment, we still have a few more people coming.”

Connie tossed the can back into the bag, “Jesus, how many people are going to be on this damn boat.”

“Just two more.” You replied, looking around. You sighed, slowly whispering, “It’s getting late.” You looked back at Happy, “Are you sure he’s driving–”

“Yes.” Happy replied swiftly, “We’ll see you when you get back.” He flashed you a smile, but it seemed… fake? Almost… pained, in a way.

You awkwardly smiled, nodding your head. “I’ll see you, too.” You waved, “Don’t miss me too much.”

Happy nodded, but didn’t smile. “I won’t.” And, he walked off. Happy’s response made you feel off. It almost seemed as if he was lying. You were probably imagining it.

Jean tapped the boat’s butt a few times, “Where’s Yeager? I thought you invited him?” He tilted his head, slowly taking you into a hug. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

You nodded, “Thanks Jean, and yeah. I thought I did.” You felt that anxiety swell in your stomach, where is he? “Maybe he’s not coming?” A part of your heart squeezed in pain as you pulled away from Jean. “How about Marco and I wait out here for them, and you guys wait in the lounge.”

Sasha tilted her head, “You sure? We can wait out with you?”

Jean grabbed some bags, handing them to Sasha and Connie. “How about we start taking things inside? You and Marco can just wait around for Eren.” He playfully winked at you. You smiled, nodding your head.

Still, you turned your head to the dock. Your hands moving to your forearms and scratching them lightly. “Where is he?”

Marco walked in front of you, his hands wrapping around yours, his pretty face smiling at you. “Y/n, it’s okay, he’s coming.” He gave you a reassuring squeeze, “Believe me.” Your eyes softened, and you quickly squeezed his hands back.

“Okay.” You tried to smile back, but didn’t have the energy to do it. It was silent for a moment, until you were bursting with questions again. “What if he doesn't talk to me? What if it’s like really awkward?”

Marco gave you a look, “Stop worrying. You’re just going to sike yourself out.”

“Y/n?”

You turned your head, all the worries swarming your head, disappearing into nothingness.

Your eyes lightened up with life and excitement. You didn’t even know how much you missed him until he was right in front of you. “Eren!” You pulled away from Marco, rushing to hug him. “I’m so glad you’re here!” Your cheeks burned up with happiness.

Eren didn’t even look at you, his eyes were locked on Marco. Filled with jealousy, “Y/n, good to see you.” He jolted back when your body collided with his, your arms wrapping around his torso. He only tore his eyes away from him when he felt your head tilt up to look at him.

Your bright eyes were glossy, and his mind halted.

You smiled, cheek pressed against his chest. “I missed you, ‘Ren.” Your body was warm, your chest pressed against his torso. Your face was soft, and as beautiful as ever.

Eren felt his heart flutter, his arms wrapping around your body. Fuck, he missed you so much. He hates himself for ghosting you for no reason. But, he was doing what he was told. Eren smiled at you, his dimples flashing, “I–yeah, I’ve been excited for this trip.” He replied, slowly pulling his body away from you. His mind was screaming at himself to stay close, but he didn’t.

You blinked a few times, slowly pulling back. “Oh.” That wasn't the reply you were expecting, and it made your heart… sting. You turned over his shoulder, peering at Armin. You waved, pulling him into a brief hug. “It’s good to see you too, and–” Your smile dropped, instantly you turned your head to look at Marco.

Marco furrowed his eyebrows, his lips parting in disbelief. Oh shit.

You looked back, waving at the girl standing in front of you. A short white dress, and some cute black flats. Her short hair a similar color, she waved back, flashing you a gorgeous smile. You forced one back, “Oh, uhm, hi, I’m Y/n.” Did she come with Eren?

No, shit Sherlock.

Her hand outstretched to you, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hi, I’m Mikasa. I’m so glad you were okay with me coming.” Her hand took yours, shaking it softly. “Eren told me all about you in the car, and I’ve seen you around campus. Always wanted to say hi, you just always looked busy.” Her voice had a soft, playful, but flat tone.

You and Eren really miscommunicated with the whole friends thing. You were expecting Armin to be the only one coming with Eren. “Yeah, definitely. You should’ve just come up to me.” You reassured, “And any friend of Eren’s a friend of mine.” You pulled your hand back, holding onto them behind your back.

Mikasa smiled, nodding her head. “I’m glad.” She pulled away, walking to Eren’s side and looping her arm through Eren’s. “And I’m so excited for this trip.” She looked up at Eren, wiggling her shoulders playfully.

Your eyes flickered to where they connected, your eyebrows furrowing for a moment. Why is she touching him? “Yeah, uh, I’ll take you guys to the lounge.” You turned on your heel, silently talking to Marco with your eyes. What the hell is she doing here?!

He flashed you a similar expression. Marco seemed to have the same thought, unsure of the situation. No clue.

Armin pulled the back of Eren’s shirt, and whispered, “I told you this wasn’t a good idea.” Eren didn’t say anything, just passed him an acknowledging look.

Marco cleared his throat, turning to Eren and smiling. “Hi, I’m Marco.” He looked at you for a moment, “Y/n and I go way back. She’s been talking non-stop about yo—“

“How excited I am for this trip!” You cut him off, opening the sliding door and allowing them to walk inside. “Marco has been my go-to phone call ever since you stopped—“ You paused, “Uhm, since a few weeks ago.”

Eren felt his chest squeeze for a moment, before nodding his head. Taking a step into the lounge. “Right.” He knew bringing Mikasa would have been a bit awkward, but he hoped it would create some distance between the two of you. So he wouldn’t end up saying something Mr. Stark directly told him not to.

Then again, with or without Mikasa, Eren was worried there would be some unresolved tension between the two of you. But, he shouldn’t worry about that right now.

Eren always knew you were rich, but he never knew the expense of it. And, your yacht alone was a clear indicator of that. Let alone the lavish atmosphere of the inside. The ceiling was decorated in a glass chandelier, the floor a deep wood, and windows that made it impossible to call the place a private, confined space.

Connie looked over the couch, flashing the new group a smile. “Jeager-bomb! About time you showed up, Y/n was getting worried here.” Connie paused, his lips twisting into an amused smile as his eyes landed on the girl next to Eren. Sasha had a similar knowing expression, “Oh shit.” They both turned to look at Jean.

Jean dropped the bag in his hands, “What the fuck.” His hands went slack, his eyes locked onto Mikasa.

Mikasa tensed, her hands pulling away from Eren while she smiled at Jean. She waved, “Hi Jean, it’s been some time.” You could tell by the way she played with the ends of her dress, this interaction was awkward. You wondered why.

Jean turned on his heel, walking farther into the boat. “You’re fucking with—I’m going crazy.” He laughed to himself, running his fingers through his slick back hair. “I’m going crazy.”

Sasha smiled, “Don’t go too far, Jean. We might need you for jeopardy—“

“Shut up!” Jean yelled.

Connie and Sasha snickered, fist bumping. “Y/n, inviting Mikasa made this already awesome vacation, even more memorable.” Sasha laughed, placing her elbow on the head of the couch, and resting her face in her hand. “Last time we played personal jeopardy with Jean, and he killed it with all the questions about Mikasa.”

Mikasa softly laughed, nodding her head. “Yeah, he knew some stuff about me I didn’t even know.”

You slowly nodded, and grabbed Marco’s arm, pulling him close and whispering, “I have a feeling there’s a lot of unresolved tension between some people on this boat.” You looked back at Sasha and Connie, raising your voice to speak to them. “I was going to introduce you, but it seems you guys already know each other.”

Connie gave you a thumbs up, “Have since highschool.”

You let out a soft breath, forcing a tense smile. “Right.”

Marco bumped his shoulder against yours, “Connie and Sasha are right, this is going to be one memorable trip.” He laughed, bumping into your shoulder, walking to the couch. “I can’t wait to tease you about it for the rest of your life.”

You loudly groaned, pushing yourself away from the boats opening and shutting the door behind you. “I hate everyone on this goddamn boat.” Where’s Niccolo? I need a drink. You went the way Jean had, a part of you hoping to run into him.

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: The Kitchen...]ˎˊ

No matter what happened between you and Jean, it wasn’t long before the two of you were talking like nothing happened.

However, you couldn’t deny the dynamic between the two of you had significantly shifted from your last argument. Different from what it once was a few weeks ago. A comfortable relationship, that wasn’t exactly platonic, but was never going to develop any farther than that. It took awhile for Jean to accept it, but he did, and tried his best to respect your unrequited feelings for him. Even if deep down it pained him to know the truth.

Then again, Jean tried not to care, he liked your company. He understood where you stood, and was thankful you could ignore his pressuring past to try and be more with you. Jean was willing to just be friends if that kept you in his life.

Jean valued your friendship with him, and didn’t want to lose that.

It wasn’t something you wanted to change. You liked knowing that no matter how playful, touchy, affectionate, loving, or caring you were, Jean could value it as is. In a way where he didn’t expect anything farther than that. Even if it took the majority of your friendship… Still, it was good to know that he wasn’t just your friend in hopes of going further with you anymore, and he understood your feelings.

Unlike a certain brother of his.

You sighed, leaning on Jean’s shoulder while you took sips of your champagne. Looking out the one-way window into the lounge from the kitchen. Connie was jumping on your couches making weird poses at Sasha, while she made equally weird ones back. A part of you wondered if they were secretly part wizard, and were enchanting some type of weird protection spell on the boat.

You tilted your head back, looking at Jean, wondering if he was also transfixed by the stupidity your friends were actively displaying. However, it was soon evident he was transfixed by someone else in the lounge.

Marco.

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his, “Jean, you’re staring.” You cooed, letting your head fall back on his arm. “I mean, I get it, Marco’s a cute boy.” You tugged on his arm gently, “You should totally shoot your shot.” You dramatically put your hand over your chest, “Or… don’t tell me, you’re secretly waiting for Eren to finally notice you?”

Jean shook you off his arm, his cheeks dusted in a dark shade of red. “You’re so stupid, Y/n.” Still, there was a hit of playfulness in his voice, but he masked it with a sip from his drink.

You giggled, “I mean, I am. But, anyone can pick up on the tension between you two.” You took another sip of your drink, reaching for the bottle and pouring yourself some more. “Don’t tell me you’re slowly getting over your obsession with me.”

Jean laughed, a smug smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah? You’d hate that, wouldn’t you?” He shook his head, “But, I’m not worried about us right now, I’m worried about Mikasa.” His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

“Mikasa?” You softly repeated, “Why? Did something happen between you two?” You tilted your head at him, wrapping both your hands around your glass.

“Yeah…” Jean said, “I get weird with crushes, like I—“

“I know how you are with crushes.” You said, poking his side. “You’ve liked me since freshman year.” You teased, a soft reassuring smile on your lips.

Jean slowly trailed his hands over his face, clearly embarrassed. “I didn’t know you knew for that long.” He sighed, “Yeah, looks like I wasn’t subtle when I met you.”

You nodded, propping yourself up on the marble counter. “I’m not a complete idiot, I can pick up on body language.” You hit his leg with your foot, smiling like a clueless child. “Like with you and Marco.” Jean hit your shoulder, you raised your hands defensively. “Shit, is Eren the better person in this situation?”

“Shut up, I literally hate you.” Jean hid his smile with his cup, pretending to take another sip.

You shrugged, turning away. “Sure you do.” You continued to look outside the one way window, peering at Eren. You tapped your cup a few times in thought, “Mikasa?”

“Mikasa.” Jean repeated, almost as if he was forcing it out of his mouth. “We have history…”

Your eyes widened in shock, “You two dated?!”

“No!” Jean shouted, shaking his hands. “We had that weird talking, situationship, thing going on. Never official, but at some point we weren’t just friends, you know?” You nodded your head. “Well, I wasn’t the healthiest person to be with.”

“Really?” You sarcastically asked.

“Shut up.” Jean ran his hands through his hair, “Imagine me with you, but thirty times worse.”

“I’m glad you’re finally over that faze.” You smiled at him, “It’s nice to be friends with you, but it was hard ignoring how painfully rude you were.” Jean quite literally told you, your art didn’t matter. Which was a hurtful thing to hear from a man you considered your best friend.

Jean’s nose wrinkled, “Shit, it still hurts to hear that.” He accepted how you felt about him, but it still hurt to hear. “But, yeah. Mikasa and I left each other on… bad terms.”

You tilted your head, pushing your hair behind your shoulders. “What happened?”

“She tried ending things with me, and I didn’t want that to happen.” Jean grimaced, breathing through his teeth. “So, I kinda’ ghosted her when she wanted to talk about stuff.”

You looked away, taking a sip from your drink. “I’m sure the ladies are all over you.” You shook your head, “But, wouldn’t it be a good time to talk it out?”

Jean sighed, turning his head away from you and shrugging.

You pressed your lips together. So this was a topic Jean didn’t like thinking about. “Do you plan on apologizing to Eren? Now would be the perfect opportunity.” You tapped your cup, softening your voice. “Maybe it’ll help you with Mikasa.”

Jean was silent. Almost as if he was trapped in his head, his lips parted, but nothing came out. Just a comfortable silence between the two of you. Until Jean finally spoke, “I’ll talk to him, if you talk to him.” He took another ginger sip of his drink.

Your eyebrows furrowed, your head snapping to look at him. “What?” Your hand was tight around your glass, your voice no longer soft.

Jean thickly swallowed, “I’m sure Marco told you, but we—occasionally talk to one another.” He blinked a few times, “And, call.”

You turned away, hiding your smug smile. You lifted your cup to your lips, “And occasionally fuc—“

“Marco told me about you, and Eren.” Jean quickly said, cutting you off. “Especially about how you wished he would bone you.”

Your smile slowly fell, your face burning up with embarrassment. “I’ve never said that!” You shouted, throwing a punch at Jean’s shoulder. “I don’t even like him… like that.” You slowly said, finding yourself hesitating to complete that statement.

Jean smiled. “I was joking about that last part, but if the shoe fits.” He shrugged, poking his cheek with his tongue.

“I hate you.” You said, “But, that backstabber. I thought I could trust him.” You slammed your drink on the counter, some of the liquid falling out from the force. “I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

Jean pushed you, “Stop. He didn’t mean to.” He sighed, leaning on the counter, “I was just curious about how you were doing, and he ended up spilling about you and Eren.” After a lot of prodding. “And, to be fair, he only told me this morning, because he was scared the trip might be awkward for you. He wanted to avoid that. He wanted you to have fun.”

You slapped your hands over your face, “Ugh. Remind me to never tell Marco anything again.” That was a lie, you liked talking to Marco. He gave good advice.

“You know that’s a lie, gorgeous.” Jean laughed to himself, “You love him too much to leave.” There it is again. That nickname. Jean called you that back at the tent, and he was doing it again.

You blinked a few times, propping your leg over the other. Even though you desperately tried to hide your shocked expression, you still looked somewhat confused. “Since when did you start calling me gorgeous? I thought I was babe?” You tilted your head.

Wait a minute. That’s one of the nicknames Spider-Man gave you. It was specific, and too coincidental. Was Jean…

“Have I? I honestly don’t even realize half the shit I call you until Connie or Sasha point it out.” Jean laughed to himself, “Like with the babe shit, Connie said something about it, and I had no clue what he was talking about.” He scratched the back of his head.

You gingerly nodded, not completely convinced. “Right.” It wasn’t undeniable evidence that Jean was Spider-Man, but it definitely stirred some questions in your head. It was something you would definitely keep in mind.

Besides, you’ve been itching to know who the man behind Spider-Man is. Since everyone at Stark Industries refuses to tell you who it is. I swear, they’ve been so secretive about everything recently.

Also, you wanted to know who Spider-Man was, so you can kill him for leaving Eren behind… Nothing that would make him want to keep his identity a secret.

“Want me to pour you more?” Jean asked, grabbing the champagne and shaking it slightly.

You looked at your cup, picking it up and holding it. “Yeah, just one more sip.”

Jean smiled, pouring a small amount into your drink. Only a sip more, “Naughty girl, you’re not even twenty one, yet.”

You shook your head, a playful smile on your lips. “Naughty girl.” You repeated, mimicking his accent. “You’re so weird, stop it.”

“Ang— Y/n.” Eren called, peeking his head into the kitchen. It felt weird to call you by your name, almost foreign. He’s more used to calling you nicknames from under the mask. Additionally, it’s been a few weeks since he’s even seen you, let alone talked to you.

However, his eyes landed on Jean. He gave him a curt nod, not rude, but acknowledging. “Jean.” He greeted stiffly, “Connie’s calling for you, says he wants to play his game.” His head was racing, why were you alone with Jean? What were you two talking about? “Should I be concerned?” Shit, did he say that out loud?

Your eyebrows raised, your lips parting almost in shock. “Eren?” You blinked a few times, clearing your throat. “No–no, Connie just–it’s a game.” You pushed yourself off the counter, quickly downing the rest of your drink. “Connie likes making games for us to play. He’s even made board games for us.”

Eren tilted his head, his eyes moving up and down your body. You looked cute in your outfit. He never got to admire the way you looked in it, since his attention was focused on Marco. “A game?” He asked, his eyes finally meeting yours again.

You nodded enthusiastically, trying to hide the way your heart raced from the eye contact. “Mhm, Connie loves making games for us to play.” You put your hands on Eren’s back, slowly pushing him back into the lounge. You turned to look at Jean, gesturing your head to Eren and mouthing, “I’ll leave him here with you if you want to say something.”

Jean shook his head, mouthing, “I’ll say something, if you promise to say something.”

You pressed your lips together, unsure if you liked those conditions. You shook your head, “I’m not doing that.”

Jean smiled, walking behind you and Eren. “Then, neither am I.”

You rolled your eyes, walking to Eren’s side.

Eren could feel the conversation happening behind him, he just didn’t have a single clue what it was about. Then again, he wasn’t thinking entirely straight with the way your hands were pressed gently against his back. He wondered if this is what women felt when men did the same. Giddy, flustered, hot and bothered, and weirdly attracted to it.

“Eren, you know how you like taking pictures?” You asked, looping your arm with his. Eren nodded, “Well, I brought my polaroid.” You leaned your head on his arm, looking up at him. “Maybe you can teach me a thing, or two.”

Eren couldn’t help, but smile at your gesture. You were taking an interest in a hobby that practically forced the birth of your college relationship with him. “Yeah, I’d love to.” His heart squeezed, as your smile grew.

Connie pointed at you, jumping off the couch. “Y/n, baby, so glad you could make it.” He said, opening his arms, “Is everyone ready for the main event?” Connie placed his hands on his hips, sexily walking to his Spider-Man backpack again.

Jean rolled his eyes, taking a seat on the couch. Sasha on the other hand, pushed herself off the couch and reached for her phone, frantically looking for something. Until her finger stopped, a sly smile coming over her lips as Connie paused, looking at her over his shoulder, almost as if he was waiting for something. “Prepare to eat your heart out.” He whispered.

Sasha pressed her screen a final time, making a song play with surprisingly bad quality.

Pony.

I can’t believe he’s pulling this shit again.

You slapped your hand over your face, trying to suppress the laugh threatening to spill from your throat. Eren turned away, mimicking your expression, but in a different direction. Armin felt his jaw drop, before his eyebrows raised. Did he like this?

Marco loudly cheered, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a –what he liked to call– stripper one. “Yeah, Connie!” He threw his stripper one at him, “Take it off!”

Connie smiled, pointing at Marco a few times. “See, I like him.” Connie peeled off his sweater, “I better see hundos rolling by the time I’m in my underwear.” He pointed at his pants, “I make people pay to see this dick.”

“No, he doesn't.” Jean whispered to Marco, leaning into his shoulder slightly. “The man’s lucky if a girl lets him see–” Jean gestured to his chest, giving his imaginary boobs a nice squeeze. Jean smiled at himself, finding his actions amusing.

Marco laughed, but it was more at Jean, then with him. “I’m sure you know all about that.”

Jean’s eyes widened, before he laughed. He bumped his shoulder against Marco’s, “Fuck, yeah.”

Connie ran his hands down his body sexily, bending over seductively and reaching for the contents inside his Spider-Man backpack. Eren noticed, and felt his chest swell with pride. “Time for friendships to end.” He pulled out a pink can of silly string, shaking it in the air. “And long lasting enemies to begin.” He subtly glared at Sasha, to which she obviously glared back.

Immediately, Jean and you groaned, already knowing where this was going. You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning into Eren. “Last time we played this game, Connie and Sasha ended up not talking for over a month.” You softly laughed, “Connie won, but it almost ended their friendship.”

Eren tilted his head, lowering it slightly so he could whisper in your ear. “Is our friendship going to end over this game?” It was a genuine question, Eren was scared of losing you over a game of all things, but you assumed he was joking.

You laughed, “Maybe. I can’t lose against Mr. Pimp over here again.” You jerked your thumb to Connie, ignoring how he ran his hands through his hair, or lack thereof. Still dancing to Pony. “Unless, you want to make a truce with me.”

Eren smiled back at you, ignoring how the back of his head was tingling. “Of course, I do.” Eren wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but this would suffice for now. “But, I still have no clue how to play this game.”

You sighed, “Connie’s going to explain, don’t worry.”

Connie tossed the pink silly string in your direction, watching as you caught it with ease. It was a common thing for Connie to do, considering he was the first person to notice your almost unhuman reflex speed. “As we have some new players, I’ll explain how to play again.”

You shook your can, opening the cap. Jean, Connie, and Sasha all flinched, almost hiding behind something. You laughed at their reaction, pulling the can over your lips. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I’m not going to do anything.” You hid your sadistic smile, “Yet.”

Connie slowly nodded, putting both his hands out to create distance between the two of you. “...Each person gets a unique color, and everyone has three lives.” He grabbed another can, “The goal is to survive.” He shrugged, “Or, just be the one with the most lives.”

Armin tilted his head, leaning on one of the couches' handles. “Sounds easy enough.” He looked at the Spider-Man bag, “You got yellow in there?”

Connie nodded, reaching into his bag and grabbing another can. “It is, but there is an important rule.” He threw the specific color at Armin, “Once you hit someone, another person has to acknowledge them with the sentence, “Have you been hit?” And, the person who was hit, has to truthfully reply. It’s the only way to actually end a life.”

Marco tilted his head, “Well, you did say washable? What if someone does that? Or, what if nobody notices a person has been hit?”

Connie smiled, lifting his index finger over his lips. “That’s all I can say about the game.” He dumped everything in his bag on the ground, the cans of silly string rolling everywhere. “Who wants what color?”

“Can I have red?”

That voice made Eren shutter. His head twisted to the side, peering over his shoulder to the individuals behind him. Your brothers. He knew they were innocent, but with the way they entered the room without him noticing, felt… odd.

Chilling.

Eren felt a shiver move down his entire body, starting at the nape of his neck and ending at his feet. Their eyes made him recoil in fear, filled with disdain and fear. And, they were locked onto Eren, almost as if they could see inside the deepest part in his mind.

They know. Eren shoved that thought away. Trying his best to ignore the way his head was tingling out of control.

“No, he can’t.” You immediately interjected, not letting Connie answer. You loudly groaned, “I thought you said you weren’t going to bother us, Reiner.”

Reiner laughed, placing his hands on his hips. “We just want to play a game with our little sister, nothin’ too bad.” There was a smug smile on his lips, one that pissed you off.

Your eyebrows furrowed, “What?” Why in the world would they call you that? Siblings don’t call each other by their titles. They definitely want something. “Don’t call me that, it’s weird. But, what do you want?”

“To play a game.” Reiner said.

“We already assigned that role to Connie. We’re good with games.” You pointed at Connie, “Besides, we don’t have enough silly string.”

“It’s fine, we already have a game in mind.” Reiner moved to the couch, sitting next to Sasha. Sasha suppressed a smile, and you wrinkled your nose. “And, Bertolt is bringing drinks.”

“Niccolo can make drinks, we don’t need you to bring any.” You argued.

Sasha smiled, pulling a pillow over her lap. “It’s okay, Y/n. We can let them make a game for the night. It’ll only be one round since I’m sure everyone is tired from driving here.” She looked at Jean, and whispered. “Get your drugs, Y/n’s not going to be able to do this sober.”

You glanced at Marco, trying to get a second opinion. He nodded, flashing you a kind smile. You sighed, “Fine, we can play your game.” You needed some time away from your brothers, being with them for even a fraction of a second drained your being.

You naturally wanted to pull Eren with you, and drag him to whatever room your heart desired. Yet, you felt awkward doing so. Would that be okay? The two of you hadn't spent time together in so long. What if you wouldn’t know what to say, what if things were different now?

What if he changed?

What if he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore?

What if he didn’t like you anymore.

You pulled on Eren’s shirt, “C’mon, I wanna get my camera. Jean put some of our stuff in the dining room.” You ignored how your heart stung with your array of thoughts. Especially with the last one.

Eren’s eyes flicked to your hand, then moved back to your face, widening with shock. “This place has a dining room?” He aspirated.

You nodded, turning over your shoulder. “This place has a gym.”

“Awesome.”

You turn to look at Jean, “Jean, you put my bag in the dining room, right?” Jean passes you a thumbs up, but he instantly turns his attention back to Marco, almost as if the interaction between the two of you never happened.

Jean looks engaged, his body twisted to give Marco his undivided attention. While Macro is turned away, holding onto a pillow between them. A part of you wonders if he’s doing that to create distance. Despite that, you try your best to suppress a smile. You pull Eren’s sleeve, leading him into the dinning room. “C’mon, let's go.”

Reiner looks at Bertolt, gesturing his head to you and Eren. Why were you so touchy with him? Did you know Eren was Spider-Man? That would make sense, considering how close you and Spider-Man are. Unless, you didn’t know, and Eren liked…

Or, you liked Eren.

Reiner’s eyes widened with realization. He needed answers. But, before they could voice anything, someone else did. “Are they dating?”

Everyone turned to Mikasa. Connie sighed in thought, “Short answer, no.”

“Long answer?” Mikasa asked, tilting her head to the side. Armin couldn’t help but think, this can’t be good.

“No.” Jean added, crossing his arms over his chest. “But, I wouldn’t put it past them to be secretly dating.” He smiled to himself, “Since we all know Yeager is obsessed with her.”

Marco gently elbowed his side, giving Jean a look.

Jean raised his hands defensively, “Fine. Mildly likes her.”

Reiner froze, his mind halting. “Please don’t tell me she likes him too.” He whispered to Bertolt.

Connie rolled his head, “Don’t take anything Jean says seriously. He punched Eren thinking he liked Y/n.” He shrugged, “I’d ask him to be sure, Eren’s a really nice guy once you get to know him. I think he’s just like that with everyone.”

Armin rolled his eyes, if only.

Reiner looked at Bertolt, his eyebrows furrowed. “Well, does Y/n like him?” That would make this situation a whole lot more painful. And you’d hate them way more than you already do. “You know, as her older brother.”

Mikasa lifted her hand, “I second this question.” She softly laughed, “Just not the older brother part.”

“Well, ye–” Marco looked at Jean, giving him silent words. Don’t say anything. So, Jean cleared his throat and spoke again, “Well, you never know. Y/n’s never been big on relationships, or dating. You’d have to ask her yourself.”

Reiner and Bertolt let out a silent breath of relief. Thank god. You wouldn’t hate them too much.

Sasha looked in your direction, “I wonder why?”

“Me too, since she was such a freak our freshma–” Jean threw a pillow at Connie’s face, and unlike you, his reflexes were as on point as a sloth. Connie nodded, “Noted.”

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: The Dining Room...]ˎˊ

You dug into your bag, pulling out a white polaroid camera. It was in its case, decorated in home made stickers Eren assumed you made yourself. He could feel his heart clinch once he saw one with Spider-Man’s face. Hearts surrounding his head. Eren noticed you saw it too, your eyes softening for a moment.

You pulled the camera out of its case, popping the camera lens open. “I know it’s not as fancy as your camera, but still.” You smiled, “It’s the thought that counts, right?”

Eren nodded, his eyes caught only by your face and adoring smile. “Right.”

You ignored how hot Eren looked, and twisted the camera around. “Here. Since you printed the pictures of us at the tree.” You smiled, “Let’s take one of just you and me before the idiots take horrible ones.”

Eren blinked a few times, before laughing. “Are you sure the idiots aren’t going to be hurt by that?”

You silently shushed him, “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.” You stood on your tippy-toes, cupping your mouth near his ear. “Besides, it can be our little secret.”

Eren shivered as he nodded. He didn’t mean to nod. Hell, he didn’t even know he was nodding, but that’s what your words did to him. He mindlessly pulled a chair, taking a seat at the table.

You handed him the camera, watching as he flipped it so the lens faced the two of you. “I feel like we should do something cute.” You mumbled, taking a seat next to him.

Eren hid his smile, “Just smile at the camera, I’ll do something cute.”

You turned to look at him, narrowing your eyes. “I don’t think I trust you.” You teased.

“Good.” Eren placed his finger on the camera, adjusting it so the small mirror captured both of you. “Give me every right to prove it to you.”

Your lips parted in shock, you’ve heard that before. You’ve been told that exact heartfelt line before. It felt like someone wrapped their being around you, holding you tight. A security you’ve felt with one person, and now wrapped around your body again. Your eyes softened, as a kind smile splitting your lips. You’ve felt this exact way before.

But, who was it with?

“I trust you.” You whispered, “I’m just messing with you.”

Eren nodded, “I know.”

You looked at the camera, smiling. Soon enough, you felt Eren move next to your cheek, pressing something against it. DId he?... Did he kiss…

You burst out in laughter, your right eye closing as Eren bit your cheek a bit harder. Snapping the picture. You gasped, reaching for the camera. “Fuck, did it catch me laughing?” You looked at Eren, “I look terrible when I laugh. Can we do that again?”

Eren shook his head, grabbing the underdeveloped picture from the camera. “Hell no, you look gorgeous.” He watched as the picture slowly developed, but in his eyes, it wasn’t moving fast enough.

You felt that surge of deja vu hit you again. You’ve experienced this. It’s on the tip of your tongue, yet you can’t seem to remember. Damn…

You took the camera from his hands, “Fine, you can keep it. As long as I get to have a picture of you laughing.” You pointed the camera at his face, looking through the small lens. That's when you felt something you had never felt before.

Longing.

Desire.

Desperation.

Eren smiled at you, his dimples poking into his cheeks. His teeth flashing you a charming smile. His hair pulled back, a few baby hairs framing his face. “Whatever, as long as I get another one of you.” He teased, pulling on the black crew-neck he was wearing. His hands were decorated with a few rings.

You pressed the button without thought, snapping the picture of Eren smiling. You could feel your cheeks burning. It almost felt like… infatuation. A part of you wondered if anyone had ever felt that way about you.

Eren’s eyes widened, “What! I wasn’t ready!”

“Neither was I.” You defended, taking the developing picture from your camera. “Now, it’s fair.”

“Hey, at least mine was cute.” Eren looked at the first picture. His heart nearly burst at the picture. It had finally developed. It was adorable. Your smile was perfect, your skin tinted in a deeper shade, and your eyes were lit up with life.

You looked so happy.

“Can I take another picture of you?” The words left his mouth without thought. Almost like some invisible force was forcing the words out of his head.

You whipped your head to look at him, raising an eyebrow suspiciously. “No. Why?”

Eren thickly swallowed, “Because, I want to teach you a few things.” He just wanted a picture of just you.

You pouted in thought, slowly looking to the side. “Hm.” You looked back at Eren, “Fine, since I lo–” You paused, blinking a few times. “Since I adore you so much.”

Eren nodded. Maybe he was crazy, but he could've sworn you were going to say…

“C’mon, I know the perfect place to take a picture.” You grabbed your hand, pulling him up a flight of stairs, and to one of the patios of your yacht. You pushed open the door and got blasted with a gust of wind. Your hair flying dramatically behind you.

Eren felt his eyes squint, before they adjusted to the brightness of the setting sun. He felt his lips part in admiration. The beauty of the sky taking the words from his mouth, and adding them to the infinite array of hot hues.

You turned over your shoulder, looking at Eren. “Gorgeous, right?” You smiled, raking your fingers through your hair, pushing it out of your face. “I like to call it my personal painting. Pretty, right?”

Eren’s eyes instantly went to you, drinking up the way the sky reflected on your skin. Your hair blowing behind you, and the subtle red slowly developing on your cheeks. Eren slowly nodded, agreeing with you, but his eyes were no longer taking in the sky. “Beautiful.”

A laugh left your lips, “I knew you’d like it.”

“Yeah.” Eren’s response was brief, “You just know me too well.” He lifted the camera, switching the lens to the correct setting. He then pointed it at you, “Smile.”

“This has got me reminiscing.” You softly said, your hands extended ever so slightly, feeling the breeze twist its way around your body. “Like, when we first met.” You leaned on the railing, “What about you?”

Eren blinked a few times, eyeing the camera, before lowering it. His thumb running over the back, “I–” He pressed his lips together, “You remember that?”

“Eren, you gave me a picture of it.” You laughed, “It’s kinda hard to forget something I have photographic evidence of.”

“It took you awhile, you didn’t recognize me at first.” Eren softly said, almost hurt.

“I did. Somewhat.”

“Somewhat?” Eren questioned, tilting his head.

You nodded, “Yeah. I know who you were, I just couldn’t put my finger on from where.” You smiled endearingly, “Then, you gave me the pictures, and it came flooding back to me.” You pushed yourself off the railing.

“I’m glad it did.” He pointed the camera at you, “I don’t know what I’d do if you forgot me.”

“You’d probably die.” You put your hands behind your back, looking at the lens and smiling.

“I probably would.” Eren pushed the button, capturing the image in front of him. “Got it.”

You blinked a few times, letting your eyes adjust from the brief pain of the flash. “Wait, I thought you were going to give me some tips?”

Eren grabbed the picture, and placed the camera back into the case. “I lied.” He told you, “I just said that so I could take a picture of you.” He turned on his heel, walking back inside.

You ran after him, glaring at him. Why would Eren want a picture of you? Worst of all, you’re pretty sure your hair was in your face, and you blinked.

“Come write something on it.” Eren called over his shoulder, “I’ll write something on my picture.”

“Like an exchange?”

“Like an exchange.” Eren confirmed, tossing you a pink sharpie.

“Did you take this from my bag?” You asked, popping open the lid, and watching as he did the same with a black one.

A mischievous smile came over his face, “Maybe.” Eren grabbed his picture, scribbling something on the bottom of it.

You, on the other hand, tapped your sharpie in thought. You didn’t know what to write, or much rather, didn’t know what was appropriate to. You had spent the better hour with Eren, and everything felt like it was… normal, but you didn’t know what to say. Which wouldn’t be the case if you went back in time to a version of yourself before the two of you went undercover to Oscorp.

You were carefree about your relationship with him, but now…

What if you said something that would give him the wrong idea?

You paused, what wrong idea would you be giving him?

“I don’t know what to write…” You thought aloud.

Eren perked his head up, “Write something for me to read in the future.” He slid his picture to you over the table. “And, you have the whole weekend, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He smiled at you, “You always do.”

Looking back at the picture of you, you furrowed your eyebrows. “Can I give it back to you later? Before the end of the trip.”

Eren popped the cap back onto the Sharpie he was using, “Sure, I don’t see anything wrong with that.” He handed you the camera back, “But, I’ll give you my picture later. Just to be fair.”

You nodded, I guess that’s fair. You looked at your camera, the stickers you created catching your attention, specifically, the Spider-Man one. You smiled, “Did you know me and Spider-Man were friends?” You asked, running your thumb over the sticker.

Eren shook his head, “No, I had no idea.” He cupped his face with his hand, leaning on the table.

You laughed, “Yeah. I guess that’s fair, I didn’t really talk about him.” You looked to the side, using your hand to support your head on the table. “Honestly, I thought you would’ve been more excited since you like him so much.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side confused. “I like him?”

You looked back at him, eyebrows furrowed in bewilderment. “I mean, yeah? You’ve said you worked with him, and you were talking about him when we worked on that project?”

Shit, that’s right! Eren cleared his throat, “Oh, yeah. Sorry, I think the drinks are getting to me.”

“You were drinking? I thought you drove over here?”

“Continue.” Eren responded, I’m embarrassing myself right now.

You laughed, “Okay. But, recently he did something that pissed me off.” You looked at him, averting your eyes for a moment, before returning them. “He left you. And, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you…” You paused, pressing your lips together.

Eren nodded, already knowing what you were trying to say. “Yeah?”

You nodded, smiling at him gently, glad he wasn’t forcing the words out. “Yeah.”

It was silent.

Your mind wasn’t. Eren’s was the same.

You were the first one to break the silence, “Do you… want to talk about it?...” You were playing with your fingers, picking at the dead skin near your nails.

Eren thickly swallowed, blinking at his picture, “Talk about… what?” He knew what you were asking about, but he didn’t know how to explain his reasoning behind it without spilling his secret, and more importantly, without lying to you.

You bit at your bottom lip, looking away. “Uh, uhm… You know?” You looked back at him, your bottom lip red and agitated. It looked painful, it was painful. “Why you haven’t…”

“Try not to do that.” Eren’s words were soft, his eyes trained on your lips. “It’s going to hurt when you eat something spicy or salty.” He smiled awkwardly, “I would know. I did it a bunch in highschool.”

You parted your lips, running your tongue over the sensitive skin. “Right, I–I forgot.” You sucked on your bottom lip, soothing it softly. You blinked as Eren leaned forward, his hand softly grabbing your chin, and his free hand running it’s thumb over your bottom lip. You winced in pain.

Eren pulled back, “Sh–Shit, I didn’t mean to. I wouldn’t want to hurt…” His face was burning, cheeks, nose, and ears a dark shade of red. “H–Here, this should help.” He reached into his pocket messily, pulling out a small tub of chapstick.

However, his short panic fell on deaf ears. You were slightly spaced out, eyes unfocused, your lips parted as your heart beated at a rate you didn’t think was possible. Eren touched you. His hands were rough, but gentle, holding your face like it was a relic of glass.

Eren popped the cap of his chapstick open, twisting the bottom, and exposing more of the soothing material. He’s about to hold your face, but stops himself. “Can I?”

You smiled, nodding your head. “You have my consent.”

Eren smiled, “Okay.” His voice is soft, his hands are equally as soothing. He used his thumb to pull down on your chin, your bottom lip being pulled down with it. You flutter your lashes when the stick touches your mouth, running back and forth and spreading the smooth material over your stinging lips. Which was surprisingly helpful.

Eren moved to your top lip, doing the same with a careful motion. You tried your best not to laugh, finding it endearing how concentrated he was. His free hand cupping your chin, the other slowly moving the stick over your lips.

“Uhm, the group’s asking for you guys.”

You recognized the voice, but didn’t pay it any attention. You kept your eyes on Eren, letting him answer for you. “Okay, we’ll be there–” Eren furrowed his eyebrows, peering at the person behind you. “Just, give me a second, Mikasa.”

Mikasa pivoted a foot behind another, tilting her head at the two of you. “Alright.” Her voice was small, almost unsure. Was she?... Interrupting something?

Eren, still unsure whether or not to continue, looked at you and pressed his lips together. Telling you to mimic his actions, that way the chapstick would evenly spread over your lips. Eren nodded, and smiled at you, “Good, perfect.” He praised, cocking his head to the side. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, letting him lead you out of the way. Mikasa stood in the doorway, letting the two of you pass her before following behind. You didn’t necessarily feel her gaze on you, but you could tell she was staring, probably at Eren.

You wondered how much she saw, and if she’s watching Eren slowly apply the chapstick over his own lips. Despite the sick satisfaction filling your head, you still couldn’t help but think…

Why did he avoid my question?

You just wanted to know why Eren has been avoiding you.

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: The Living Room...]ˎˊ

Connie pouted in the corner of the couch, while Sasha ran her hands up and down his back soothingly. Was she annoyed that Connie was still hurt over not getting to pick the game? Yes. But, she was used to the weird things Connie got hurt by? Also, yes. Sasha turned to Jean, “Did you finish?” She softly asked, watching as he was still obviously rolling a blunt.

Jean glared at her, “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Sasha awkwardly laughed, turning back to Connie, “I told you he was in a pissy mood.” Connie turned over his shoulder, and whispered, “It’s because Y/n and Eren are off who knows where, and doing God knows what.” He smiled, looking at Jean and saying a bit louder, “Alone.”

Jean’s jaw tensed, his eye twitching. Connie wasn’t at all wrong, but that was a half truth. Jean was pissed that the two people who he deeply liked at some point are alone together. How fucking ironic. On top of that, Mikasa, a girl he was unhealthy obsessed with in highschool, was off looking for the two of you.

God was really resting on his shoulder with this shit.

Jean flinched when Marco poked his side, making him turn his attention to the freckle faced boy. Jean almost jumped at their proximity, but he didn’t move back. Marco smiled at Jean’s reaction, “Did I scare you?”

Jean forced an awkward smile, “Me, Scared? Never.” Jean tapped his knee, “Why would I get–why would you scare me?” Jean tilted his head, and propped his arm on the head of the couch, holding up his head with his hand.

Marco turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow before laughing. “I was messing with you, but, okay?” His eyes flicked to the blunt Jean was rolling, he looked back at Jean.

Jean thickly swallowed, “Uh, did you want one?” He lifted it up, “I can make one if you don’t want to share it with someone.”

Marco shook his head, “It’s okay, I don’t do anything like that.”

“Makes sense.” Jean looked at Sasha and Connie, “It’s a nasty habit, something that I love doing.” He looked back at Marco, “Good for you, though.”

Marco shook his head, “I’ll have a go, if you agree to share one with me.” He outstended his pinkie, “Fair?”

Jean instantly smiled, locking his pinkie around Marco’s, “Fair.”

Sasha made a face at Connie, suggestive and knowing. “Weird..” Connie leaned into Sasha’s ear, “My gaydar is going off.” Sasha nodded in agreement.

Jean threw a blunt at Sasha, “You two assholes can have the fucked up one.” He rolled his eyes, “I can literally hear you.”

Sasha leaned over Jean’s lap, reaching for his backpack. “Just give me the bong.”

Jean pushed Sasha off, laughing when she hit the floor. Marco handed the backpack to Sasha's limp body on the floor. Jean suppressed a smile, “Your loss, I used chocolate mint in that.”

Sasha looked up from the floor, eyeing the fucked up blunt, she cringed, than sighed. “Ugh, fine.” She grabbed it, as well as the backpack and propped herself up, deciding to stay on the floor near the coffee table.

Soon enough you entered the room, eyeing the space. “Did my brothers finally leave?”

Connie shook his head, “Nope, said they were going to get some shot glasses and shit.” He grumbled, arms crossed over his chest like a child. “Assholes.”

You laughed, sitting between Marco and Jean. “There’s the spirit.” You looked at the blunt in Jean’s hand. “Are we sharing again, or what?”

Jean pushed your shoulder playfully, “While you were busy makin’ out with Yeager over here, Marco and I already agreed to share one.” He tapped your nose, “A second too late, babe.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “But, I wasn’t making out with–”

“Yes, she was.” Mikasa interjected, smiling playfully as she watched as Sasha carefully prepared the bong for use.

Eren jumped, his ears turning a deep shade of red. “We were not, I was applying–” He paused, looking to the side. “Nevermind.”

“They’re totally gonna’ bone by the end of this trip.” Connie whispered to Sasha and Jean, poking his cheek with his tongue. “Ten bucks.” Sasha shook her head, leaning back into the couch and tilting her head back to talk to her two friends. “I bet twenty.”

Jean laughed, shaking his head. “Thirty they won’t do anything.” He cupped his mouth, “We all know he’s too much of a pussy to even kiss her.” He reached for a lighter in his pocket, intending to light his blunt.

Armin suppressed a smile, “I’m with Jean.” Eren glared at his “best friend,” before taking a seat next to him. He wondered where Mikasa would sit, but his answer was quickly answered when she sat on the floor between his legs, leaning her head on his knee comfortably. Sure, Mikasa wasn’t looking at him, she had her back to Eren, but it still made his heart speed.

Your hand tightened around a pillow, eyeing Eren for a moment.

You threw a pillow at Jean’s face, watching as his body hit the frame of the couch hard. “You guys are terrible at whispering.” You sat on the lovechair, propping your face on your hand and singing, “Next time, I’ll roundhouse kick you.”

“And that shit hurts.” Reiner boasted from behind you, “I’ve been kicked a fair amount of times.” The amount of times you’ve overpowered him in play fights was uncanny, even when he sincerely tried to beat you. Reiner placed the various arrays of wines and liquor, the colorful shot glasses stacked up and placed next to the bottles.

You kicked your feet on the table. “Alright, let's do this.” You leaned your head back, “What game are we playing?” Your eyes were sharp, glaring into your brother, and with the way you were leaning, it made it impossible for anyone but him to see your hateful gaze.

Reiner smiled nonetheless, “A game I always play with my friends all the time.” He sat at your feet, reaching for a beer bottle and popping off the top with his teeth, “Truth or Drink.” He quickly took a sip of his drink, “With a twist, of course.” Reiner continued to finish the glass bottle.

Jean finally lit his blunt, handing it to Marco before taking a hit himself. However, Jean didn’t notice the confused expression Marco had, unsure what to do with the object. “Wait, isn’t that a card game?” Despite Jean asking the question, he didn’t pay attention to what Reiner had to say. Marco tapped his side, asking for some help. To which Jean was more than happy to give.

Reiner placed the empty glass bottle on the table, “Exactly.”

Bertolt entered the room, tearing off the remaining plastic from the box. Tossing it to the side and smiling, “Found it.” He sat next to his brother, popping open the top.

“What took you so long? I thought I said it was in my backpack.” Reiner asked, but it seemed more rhetorical than anything. “Alright, let's get this started. He reached for a yellow, plastic, shot cup. “Everyone grab a color, and I’ll serve you one before we start.”

You kicked Reiner’s back gently, “Pass me a pink one.”

Soon enough, everyone lifted their colorful shot-cup into the air. While you and your brothers confidently exclaimed, “Salud,” the moment you clinked your cups together, everyone else reluctantly copied the three of you. It was endearing to see them awkwardly pronounce, “Salud,” as it was hilarious.

It wasn’t long before Reiner was explaining how to play his version of Truth or Drink. Take a card, spin the bottle, and ask the infamous words of ‘truth or dare,’ let the person pick, and if the person didn’t want to answer or do the request, drink. Truths being one shot, dares being two.

Simple enough. Except, it went both ways. Both parties, whether that be the person asking, had to complete the task with the person who asked. If they wanted to do a dare, or answer a question, so did the asker.

You softly laughed at the game, “So, you’re making us play a glorified version of Truth or Dare?”

Reiner nodded, “Yup.” He looked at you over his shoulder, “It’s fun, you just don’t know how to have any.” He smiled while you glared at him, clearly finding enjoyment in your anger. Subtle, but there nonetheless.

Mikasa, now sitting closer to the table, rather than between Eren’s legs, considering everyone shifted a bit to make the bottle spinning aspect of the game easier, tilted her head and asked, “What if the bottle lands on yourself?”

Reiner looked up, in what looked like thought. Which you thought was odd considering he had played this game so many times with his friends. “How about?... You can pick someone to answer the truth, or do a dare.”

Connie grabbed the blunt from Sasha, shrugging his shoulders. “Sure, let’s get this over with.” Sasha laughed, leaning forward and whispering, “Ignore him, he’s still salty over not getting to pick the game.” Connie rolled his eyes, taking the lighter from Jean.

Reiner smiled, leaning his head back and looking at you. “Youngest goes first.” He handed you the glass bottle, watching as you rolled your eyes and pushed yourself off the couch. Crawling over to the small coffee table, and spinning the bottle. You eyed the bottle, watching as it landed on…

“Jean.” You softly said, smiling at him playfully and grabbing a card. You read the card and scrunched your nose, a reaction to which he laughed at. “Truth or Dare?”

Jean grabbed the blunt from Marco’s mouth, taking a long inhale before answering. “Truth.” He finally held the drug to his lips, letting it flood his senses. “Or, should I pick dare?”

You shook your head, “No, I like this one. Way more than the dare.” You didn’t necessarily want to re-create a sex position with him in front of your brothers. You leaned forward, placing the card face down on the table, “What is the story you tell people who don’t know me?”

Jean laughed, unsure if he wanted to answer that question. Considering the majority of the time when new people were asking about you, it was purely romance related. And, he had to scare them off somehow. He tapped his fingers, blowing out a string of smoke. “I’m not sure you’re going to like the answer.”

Suddenly, Connie burst out laughing, “No, don’t. Don’t tell her that, she’ll kill us.” Connie pressed his hand over his mouth, waving his hand dismissively. “Just take a shot, you know Y/n doesn't say anything too bad about us.”

You blinked a few times, before leaning over the coffee table. “What!? You can’t say that, you have to tell me now!”

Jean shook his head, pouring you and himself a drink. “Nope. Bottoms up.” This time, he was the first one to say, “Salud,” before quickly downing his drink. You rolled your eyes and internally cussed him out, before drinking the painful liquid.

“You’re lucky I like you…” You looked at the person to the left of you, purposely forcing Reiner to be the last person to play. Which happened to be Marco, he passed you his cup, spinning the glass bottle in exchange. You took it upon yourself to drink, everyone watching eagerly as the bottle spun.

Eren, on the other hand, watched as you constantly pressed your glossy lips against Marco’s red solo cup. Whether that be to take a sip, or merely rest them against the rim. Nevertheless, it didn’t take away the fact that you were sharing a drink with him. Something you had once done with Eren so intimately, or… what he thought was intimately. Was that just something you did with all your friends? Or…

Were you now closer to Marco than you were once with him.

Eren nearly felt his heart shatter at that thought. He didn’t mean to push you away, he just wanted to protect you. And with the way your eyes were looking into his, shiny and deep, it made his guilt seep deeper into the cracks of his self consciousness.

Wait?…

Why are you looking at him?

“What the hell did you give him, Reiner?” Sasha asked, waving a hand in front of Eren’s face. “Did you spike it, or something?” She loudly, and dramatically gasped, “Wait, don’t tell me… You plan on slee—“

Jean slapped his hand over Sasha’s mouth, “That’s enough of that, before you get canceled.”

Eren blinked, watching as you tilted your head and softly smiled at him. Hiding yourself behind Marco’s cup. “Uh, what?” He looked around, before glancing at the table. How long was the bottle pointing at him? Did everyone see him staring at you?

Marco smiled, looking at you with a knowing look for a split second before speaking, “Truth or dare?” His hand was flicking the card, waiting patiently for Eren’s answer.

Eren deeply inhaled, his ears a deep shade of red revealing his embarrassment. “Uhm, truth.” He ran his tongue over his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick from before.

“Have you ever had thoughts, or feelings for anyone in this room?” Marco asked, grabbing his cup from you, and taking a sip. You reluctantly gave him his drink, and while doing so, you caught a glance of his card.

Truth: What is the most comforting sound in the world?

Dare: Show off your best fake orgasm.

You smiled to yourself, looking back at Eren. Marco’s an angel. You leaned toward Eren, intrigued into what could possibly be his answer. A part of you hoping that his answer would involve you.

Then, another thought hit you, almost overpowering your original curiosity for Eren’s answer. What would be Marco’s answer? He’s never told you too much about his personal relationships. Just subtle things to segway a dying conversation into a more lively one.

Marco tilted his head, looking at Eren’s shot glass, “You wanna tell me?”

Eren felt his eye twitch, watching as Marco lifted the cup to his lips, and took a sip of his drink. “Yes.” His answer was brief, but answering the question was a small price to pay, he had a different goal in mind.

Marco’s eyebrows raised in surprise, “Looks like we’re in the same boat.” Marco leaned his head on your shoulder, taking another sip. And Eren would have crushed the cup in his hand if it wasn’t for you smiling at him, and not Marco.

“Drama.” Jean whispered into his cup, eyeing Eren and you. “Who would’ve guessed.” However, he couldn’t help but notice how Mikasa sipped her drink, her cheeks tinted in a dark shade of red. Wait, does she like—

“Your turn.” Marco pushed the beer bottle to Jean, “Try to make this one interesting.”

Jean narrowed his eyes at him, before rolling his eyes playfully and spinning the bottle. Grabbing a card while it spun. “That seems like an outcome decided by the card.” He flicked the card with his finger, watching as the bottle pointed at the person right in front of him.

Sasha snorted, her hand covering her mouth as she read Jean’s card. She leaned into Connie, “He better pucker up.” Connie slapped his hand over his mouth, “Stop.” He exasperated.

Jean sighed, “Truth or dare.”

Reiner tilted his head, “Dare.”

Sasha laughed so loudly, you thought it was a puppy who yelped in pain. “Fuck yeah, I like this dude.” She lifted her cut to him, while Connie shook his head with a smile.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head, “Reiner just refuses to get too drunk. He gets obnoxiously truthful.” You laughed recalling the last time he drank around you, it was honestly painful how desperate he was to sleep with a random girl from one of your father’s get-togethers. Thank god you don’t attend those anymore. “Isn’t that right, brother?” When you said that, you and your brothers cringed.

“Whatever.” Reiner looks back at Jean, “Let’s make out already.”

“Huh? But, that’s not the–”

You could feel shock soar over your body, watching as Reiner climbed over the coffee table, grabbed Jean’s collar, and yanked him to his mouth. Smashing his lips against Jean’s, moving with so much conviction you would’ve thought he was trying to make some weird point.

Your jaw dropped in other words.

Sasha was racing for her phone, Connie's eyes were wide, Marco dropped his drink, Eren didn’t know where to look, Armin slapped his hand over his mouth, Bertolt looked just as shocked as you, and Mikasa looked indifferent.

Sasha absolutely lost her shit the moment her camera picked up Reiner’s tongue slipping past his lips, and into Jean’s. But, just about everyone in that room did, except for Mikasa of course. Jean’s eyes widened, immediately pulling back and slapping his hand over his mouth.

Sasha smiled, “Oh my god, this is literally going to pay off my college debt.” She squealed, flipping the camera to you, revealing the several photos she took, with an additional video with sound. “You know how many girls are dying to have some sort of blackmail on Jean?”

Jean slammed the bottle into Sasha’s chest, standing up and mumbling something about needing to take a piss. You knew it was bullshit, and so did Marco. So, he followed Jean not even a second after.

Connie coughed, loudly saying in between, “They’re totally going to makeout next.” You threw Marco’s empty drink at his face, he blinked, nodding before saying, “Noted.”

“Pass the bottle to Sasha, I’m getting tired.” You told Reiner, “I’ll leave if this game doesn’t end this century.”

“Skip me.” Sasha passed the bottle to Connie, “Me and Connie are one, a pod, we go together.” Connie nodded, twisting the bottle and spinning it.

Reiner was going to object, when Jean walked back into the room. “Just let this have this, they’ll bitch if things don’t go their way.” He sighed, looking at you for a brief moment. “We don’t need to relive the cabin incident.” You just nodded in agreement.

The bottle lands on Armin, and Connie can’t help but smile. “Armin, pretty girl Armen.” He cooed, letting his hand grab a card, and handing it to Sasha, “Tell me babe…” For some reason, Connie’s now speaking in a Brooklyn accent. “You come here often? Should I be getting you a drink?”

“Truth.” Armin slapped his hand over his face, hiding how it was burning bright red.

Sasha smiled, “I like the answer.” She placed the card down on the table, tilting her head to the side. “Have you ever fantasized about one of your close friends?”

Armin’s eyebrows mushed together for a brief second, as if he was thinking, before smiling to himself. He looked back at Sasha and Connie, pouring some liquor into his shot cup, and theirs. “Hell yeah.” He downs the liquid, and with equal enthusiasm, Sasha and Connie down theirs.

You watched as Mikasa leaned over the table, grabbing the bottle and giving it a quick twist. Her hand already grabbing a card. She practically squealed when the bottle landed on Eren.

Eren blinked a few times, leaning back in his chair. “Uh, truth.” He wasn’t in the mood to lick a toilet, or recreate a sex position with Mikasa. “Pour me a drink, too.”

“Who do you care for most in this boat?” Mikasa asked, looking at Eren over her shoulder.

Eren’s eyed you for a second, and immediately the two of you looked away. Reiner looked at Bertolt with the same amount of enthusiasm. “Uh, probably…” Eren sighed, shaking his head, “Hand me the drink.”

Mikasa half laughed while handling Eren the drink. “Okay, weird.” She whispered, “Enjoy your drink.” Eren just nodded, cocking his hand back and swallowing the bitter liquid. Missing the suspicious look Reiner continued to give him.

Why did you look at his sister? In fact, how close had the two of you become since Reiner’s first interaction with Eren? Why was Eren invited to this trip, you were always very particular when it came to the yacht.

During this you nudged Jean, making him turn his attention to you. You leaned into his ear, cupping your mouth and whispering, “Where’s Marco? I thought he went to comfort you after your temper tantrum?”

Jean shoved you away, “He’s probably shitting.”

You shook your head, “Marco doesn't shit, he’s too perfect for that.” You stand up, “I’ll go look for him, no worries.”

“Should I come?” Jean asked.

“No, I’m just trying to get away.” You pushed yourself up, “I’ll grab us some snacks. Want anything in particular?”

“Can make us some burgers, or something?” Sasha pipped in, “I'm getting hungry.”

You just nodded, “Sure, I’ll get our cook to make a little food.” You dusted yourself off, walking to the kitchen. Only to let out a deep sigh you didn’t know you were holding.

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: The kitchen...]ˎˊ

You blinked at Marco, tilting your head to the side. “Uhm, did you…”

“I think I’m going to bed.” He said, his hand softly pressed over his lips. “I think I’m getting sea sick.” You watched as Marco leaned over the sink, slightly swaying in his spot.

You patted his back, “I mean, you refused to eat anything before we got here, so it could be that.” You looked to the side, “You also haven’t had any liquids in your systems besides alcohol.” That last part was more of a whisper to yourself.

Marco gagged, leaning deeper into the sink. “I can’t–I can’t…” He shook his head, “I think I’m going to die.” He gagged again, “Like, I genuinely think I’m going to die, Y/n.” He let his head fall, almost as if he did die on the spot.

You turned your head over your shoulder, looking at the cook in the kitchen. “Hey, uhm, Niccolo, how are those burgers coming along? I think someone is genuinely going to die without your food this time.”

“I’m working on it.” Niccolo grumbled back, tossing a half cooked fry at your head. Which he missed entirely when you swiftly cocked your head to the side. “You either give me a minute, or poison your boyfriend with half cooked food.” You ignored Niccolo’s emphasis on the word “boyfriend.”

“I can’t believe my dad keeps you around.” You rubbed Marco’s back in circles, “I swear, your food better make me orgasim.” You grumbled.

Niccolo threw his knife down, walking around the island table and making his way towards you. You instantly pulled away from Marco, walking close to his face. Niccolo scowled at you, “You know what, choke on this–”

You and Niccolo flinched when you heard Marco dump his stomach onto the sink. “How about after.” You moved to Marco’s side again, “I can’t deal with two sick men right now.”

“I’m not sick.” Niccolo shot back.

“In the head you are.” You told him, grabbing the trays of food. “Thanks for the meal.”

Niccolo rolled his eyes at you, “Whatever.”

You placed a plate by Marco’s side, “When he’s done eating, taking him to one of the rooms upstairs. The one closest to the restroom.” I'm sure he’s going to throw up his stomach tonight. You patted Marco’s back a few times before making your way back to the living room. Holding the plates with the utmost care. Until, a deep voice sparked your attention.

“What would you do if the person you care for the most was in danger?” Reiner asked, looking at Eren over his shoulder. You stopped dead in your tracks. You could see them, but they couldn’t see you. You could also see how the bottle was pointed directly at Eren.

You rolled your eyes, your brother had to pick on the one guy you didn’t want him to bother. A part of you wondered why? Another part of you wondered why you stayed hidden? But, Eren’s answer made your heart jump.

“Anything.” Eren said, the thought of you held by the Armored Titan flashing through his head. His fist clenched, “Absolutely, anything.”

“Right.” Reiner said with a yawn, “What’s a broke college kid going to do?” Reiner softly laughed, “And, ain’t you the kid who went viral for getting his ass beat by the star quarterback?” His eyes flickered to Jean, seeing as he stifled a laugh.

Jean shook his head with a smile, concealing it with his cup. “Shit, I completely forgot about that.” Eren glared at him, to which Jean softly replied, “I mean, is the guy wrong?”

Reiner laughed, but immediately felt his body tense as you leaned over his shoulder, placing the food down on the table. “I promise you, Eren can do a whole lot more than you think.” You laughed, “He’s definitely smarter than the both of you combined.”

Sasha squealed at the food, grabbed a burger and bit into it. Jean shrugged, “That’s also not wrong.” He grabbed a fry from Sasha’s plate, ignoring her cries against it. “I bet Eren could make some kind of poison that is undetectable and kill us both without a trace.”

“Kind of intense, but I appreciate the support nonetheless. Both of you” Eren said, watching as you smiled at him. Mouthing, “Anything for you, babe.” Jean just waved Eren off dismissively.

You grabbed the bottle, placing it on the ground. “Anyways. We’re done for the night, I’m sure everyone is tired.” You ignored Reiner’s protest, “We have to do rooms. We can do a draw, or just pick people we want to sleep with.”

Connie draped his arm over Jean, “I call Jean.”

Jean shook his head furiously, “Don’t. No. Can I refuse?” He tried clawing Connie’s arm off his neck, but nothing moved his bald friend.

You smiled, “Perfect, you two can share the room downstairs with the crew.” You looked at Sasha, and immediately she nodded. “Okay, and Sasha and I can–”

“Let's have Mikasa in our room too!” She shouted, leaning over and reaching for Mikasa’s hand. Mikasa grabbed Sasha’s and nodded, flashing her a kind smile.

You pressed your lips together, before nodding. “Okay, yeah. Mikasa can be in our room too.” You tried to ignore the growing pit in your stomach, twist into something best described as dread. You didn’t even know Mikasa, yet your body already seemed to have the worst reaction to her.

Armin tilted his head back, “We’re sharing a room–”

“Don’t even need to ask.” Eren said, “Put me and Armin together, we have shit to talk.” Eren very obviously looked at Jean, before looking back at you. You just nodded.

“Okay, you’ll take the room upstairs with us.” You pulled Sasha to your side, “Reiner, show Jean and Connie where they’ll be staying.”

“Well. What about us?” Bertholt said, pointing at himself.

“I don’t know, figure it out.” You told him, you used your free arm to grab Eren’s. “Let’s go.”

It wasn’t long before everyone was standing in the hall, two rooms on each side. You moved to the right room and looked inside. To your relief, Niccolo had already put Marco in the room with the restroom.

“Okay, this is the room you and Armin will have.” You told Eren over your shoulder, moving away from the door. “We’ll be in the room right across from you.”

Sasha shoved past you, walking into the room, calling over her shoulder, “I call top bunk!” Mikasa smiled at Sasha’s enthusiasm, placing her things on the floor.

Soon enough, it was just you and Eren standing awkwardly. Both doors closed, creating a small environment between you two. “Are you okay?” You softly said, “My brother’s are… stupid.” You rolled your eyes.

Eren laughed, “Yeah, no, it’s okay.” He shrugged his shoulders, “I’m a little stupid too.” His eyes meet yours, “You’re a little stupid too.”

You shook your head, before biting your bottom lip. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“It’s…” Should you bring up what Eren avoided earlier, or was the moment over? Should you still care, was everything fine now? I mean, the two of you are talking like before again, so shouldn't really care, right? But, you’re still confused. You’re still kind of hurt.

No, just ignore it. Don’t ruin the best thing in your life.

You took a deep breath.

“It’s about us…” Goddamn it Y/n.

Eren felt the air leave his body.

“Are we?...” You looked to the side, “Are we still…” Suddenly, saying the words “best-friend” felt inappropriate, but you forced the words out. “Are we still friends?” You softly asked, “It just–I feel like you don’t like me anymore. Or, we’re just not as close?” You laughed at yourself, “Sorry, I’m being dumb.”

You couldn’t be further from the truth. “What? No. Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize about.” Eren said, his hand cupping your face. “I literally.. adore you.” He sighed, pulling away from you and leaning on the door to his room, “I just–” he sighed, “I just needed some time to think.”

“About?”

You sounded hopeful, Eren noticed. “M-Me.” Eren shouldn’t be lying to you, he already does enough of that. “Us.” He corrected, “I feel it’s kinda’ important to say, possibly can’t wait.”

You bit your bottom lip, nodding your head. “I–” You sigh, “I have been thinking about us too.” You play with your hands, “But, probably unlike you, I’ve been talking to someone about it.”

“Who?” Eren knows the answer, but a part of him doesn’t want to believe it. He’s praying it isn’t the person he’s thinking of.

The person you replaced him with.

“Marco.” You pivoted a foot behind the other, “I met him at Panda Express. We’ve been really close ever since.”

“What’s up with you and Marco?” Eren asked, fidgeting with the bottom of his shirt, tugging at it. “You two seem close. Seems like you like him.. more than me.” It’s the painful truth.

You flinched at his words, “What? No, Marco’s–” You shake your head, “This isn’t about Marco, this is about you. Right now, I only care about you. You’re more important to me.” You paused, then reached for his hand, pulling him closer to you. “What’s wrong?”

Eren felt his lips part, but ultimately closed them. He wants to tell you everything, but he can’t tell you everything.

“Tell me, I’ll always be willing to listen.”

Eren cupped your face, his hand slowly making its way behind your ear, guiding you to look up at him. “Y/n… I—“ Eren sighed, his nose touching yours lightly.

“I’m in l—“

The two of you jump at a loud and pained groan, and almost instantly you’re silently cursing at yourself, a worried expression painting your face. “Shit, I forgot.” You pulled away from Eren.

Eren glanced at the door, then to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Marco he is… he’s really sick.” You gave Eren a defeated look, “I’m so sorry, but give me a second. I need to check up on him.” You weakly pushed past Eren and into his room. Silently cursing at yourself, as a worried expression painted your face.

It feels like all the weight in the world is crunching Eren’s heart. To add fuel to the fire, when Eren finally turns to see what you’re doing, he’s physically pained. You’re helping Marco to his feet, arm wrapped around his body and gingerly tugging him to the restroom. Eren heard Marco mumble something, but he knew it was gibberish–

“I know I drank more. I just have a really high tolerance, I already told you how I was freshman year.” You softly cooed at him.

But of course you knew exactly what Marco was saying.

Eren moved into the room while you pushed Marco into the restroom, plopping him on the ground in front of the toilet. You kneeled next to him, whispering something into his ear.

Finally, you got up and moved to Eren, the silence between you is thick. The tension, emotions, and uncertainty is thicker.

You want to continue the conversation, but the tone is different. Eren seemed a bit… different. “Do you want to talk about this in the morning? It’s late and–” You softly laughed, “We’re both really stupid, and maybe a bit tipsy.” You’re hoping your joke would lighten the tension.

Eren doesn't look at you. “Yeah, sure.” He shook his head, “You know what, nevermind. It wasn’t important at all.” He leaned his head back.

You don’t know how to feel, all you know is that your chest hurts. It hurts, and your throat burns. “What?— But I thought…” Eren’s still not looking at you.

So, you stopped yourself, softly sighing and saying, “Okay.” Your footsteps sound heavy, and when the door clicks shut, it feels like the loudest sound in the world.

“Eren.” Armin softly said, grabbing onto his shoulder. “Is everything?...” Eren’s still looking at the roof, his eyes fluttering. Armin softened his voice, “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Eren shook his head, “I’m just tired.”

“Something is clearly—“

“Can you leave me for a goddamn second.” He seethed, “I swear, you’re always up my ass. I don’t need that right now.”

Armin’s eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry? I’m just looking out for you. It’s not like a few hours ago you were begging for my help.” He pulled away from Eren, “You’re just being emotional right now, rest for a moment before you say something you’ll regret.” He didn’t want to phrase it that way, but the words slipped out.

“Right.”

Marco glanced at the two boys, his eyes heavy and throat sore. It hurt to swallow, so with the little strength he had, and little to no idea what just happened, he asked, “Can someone get me some water, it feels like I’m dying.”

“Right.” Eren stood up, “Let go get some for you.” He still sounded stiff, but still pushed himself off the bed and made his way to the door.

“Eren–” However, Eren already left the room before Armin could even finish his sentence. Armin let his head fall between his shoulders, his glasses hanging low on his nose. “Just do whatever.” He felt his chest squeeze, “Doesn't matter.”

-ˋˏ★ [ Location: The Dock...]ˎˊ

Eren had his wrist crossed, his head hanging low. Wind blowing through his bangs, his eyes closed. The sound of waves crashing against the boat soothed him ever so slightly.

Was he being dramatic? Were his feelings truly too much? It still hurts. It felt like you picked Marco over Eren, but was he in his right to complain?

Eren picked his head up, only to be met with darkness and for some odd reason, it was comforting. His heart still hurt, his head ached, his body felt hot, and… Eren was lying to himself, he felt the exact same way he did when watching you hold Marco.

Eren fisted his hand, hitting his forehead gently. “Fuck.” A part of him wished he could go back in time, fix all the mistakes he’s ever made. However, the question that lingered in his head was… “How far would I go back?”

Eren’s body went cold, the hairs on the back of his neck standing tall.

“You okay?”

Eren snapped his head over his shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed. He thickly swallowed and mustered out a weak, “Yeah.” But, Eren wasn’t even sure the words passed through his lips. “Sorry, I’ll get out of the way.”

“Are you and Y/n together?” Reiner asked, leaning on the wall “She was different today.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.” Reiner smiled, “I think that was because of you.”

Eren shook his head, “I wish. It was probably because of..” He rolled his eyes, “Her stupid new best friend Marco.”

“No, I’ve lived with Y/n for a few years, I know she was looking at you.” Reiner tilted his head, “Do you like her? I mean, of course you do right.” He laughed, crossing his arms over his chest. “You were thinking about her when I asked you that question.”

Eren just had the worst luck. Of course the bottle landed on him, and of course Reiner had to be the guy that found Eren heartbroken over his sister. “Maybe. I just–I feel like I’ve messed up. But, I don’t want to..” He groaned to himself, cupping his face with his hands.

Reiner tilted his head, “What?”

“I don’t want to apologize.” Eren let out a breath of air, “I really don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“Because then it just feels like I’m the bad guy, like I’ve done something wrong.” Why was Eren saying this? He was supposed to keep this to himself. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah.” Reiner looks at the sky, “I get it.”

“Do you?” Eren looked back at the darkness, and this time, it felt like he was trapped. It’s weird how fast something could change.

“Mhm.” Reiner taps the wall, “People do things for a reason, and sometimes you can’t say what they are.” He shrugged his shoulders, “And, you don’t have to tell anyone what the reason is if you don’t want to. Nothing wrong about it.”

Those words stuck to Eren, “You think so?” He just sighed and leaned his head back, “I don’t know. I feel alone, in some weird way.” Eren couldn’t talk to Tony, because it never seemed as if Tony dealt with this. He grasped the Iron-Man suit so well.

Eren could even swing without feeling the uncomfortable dropping sensation in his stomach.

“Yeah, I get it.” Renier nodded, “More than you think.”

Eren looked at Renier and tilted his head, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Renier took a deep breath, taking a step in Eren’s direction. “In the beginning of the year, Bertholdt and I attacked The Rose. Trying to create a cry for help so we could take out Levi Ackerman or Tony Stark.” Reiner laughed to himself, and another wave crashed into the boat.

Eren felt confused, what was Renier talking about? “Wait..” He smiled, putting his hand out to stop Renier from talking, but the words kept coming.

“My brother and I felt alone, but we took comfort knowing we had eachother.” Renier finally looked at Eren, his eyes glowing in the darkness. “I took comfort in knowing there was another monster like me.”

Another wave crashed against the boat.

Renier cocked his head to the side, gesturing to the door next to him. “C’mon. There’s some things we need to talk about.”

Eren shook his head. He couldn’t feel his body, he couldn’t think. “What?” He laughed, but coughed. “What–what are we?... What is… What.” He took a step back, and the railing made his jump, his heart was pounding in his ears. “W-What are we… talking about?”

Reiner narrowed his eyes and tilted his head. “The better question is, who are we talking about.”

『 END OF VOLUME FOUR: LONG AWAITED VACATION.. 』: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

#anime #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #rating: mature #eren x reader #eren jeager #attack on titan eren #eren yeager #snk eren #aot #eren aot

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jwnchstr · 2 years

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waiting for superman | m.s47

title: waiting for superman part 1

characters: you/reader/catherine, mick schumacher

summary: when your father (a former ferrari mechanic) was diagnosed with alzheimer's, your world turns upside down. you had to give up your city life, get back to your village to take care of your father. but what hurts the most is being so close to him and seeing him not remember you (catherine) as well as every precious moment in his life with you. you start to questions about everything until mick schumacher (your childhood best friend) comes back into your life and teaches you life lessons that you're sure will remember forever.

other f1 fics | masterlist | my wattpad

waiting for superman part 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

working is stressful enough. and driving 30 minutes just to get home can make you feel like killing yourself. those traffics. people breaking for no reason. people driving above speed limit as if they're in a drift competition. but oh well, except for today.

you decided to take a longer route home today even if that means you will be spending extra 10 minutes on the road to reach home. but with your current life, you know needed those 10 minutes because it's literally the only time that you have for yourself. accompanied by nothing but the hum of your tyres and the sound of the car engine. that little white noise somehow makes you calm than the sound of the ocean meeting the shore.

there were a lot of things you are thinking right now but for once, it's not about money. you have some savings enough for the next four months (you've been saving up since your first year at an engineering company in the city centre). so even though you're now only working as a barista, you don't worry about money much. and with your father's condition, the financial assisstant given by the government are quite enough for his medication and to pay for his caretaker.

in the car, your mind takes you back when you were little. how you were always in your father's shadow. despite being a girl, you would always be seen with bolts and nuts, spanners, hammers, car spare parts in your hands. oil and grease on your face. instead of playing with dolls, you'd play with karts, toy cars, nerf guns, video games. the amount of time you spent with your father's colleagues in the hotels. you would follow everywhere your father goes. you would often be seen at the ferrari's garage, surrounded with ferrari engineers and mechanics, asking them this and that. watching them like you're the boss.

but the clouds aren't always clear. things would always crumbling down while you're at the highest of high. it's like the god is calling you and to humble you down. after getting a phone call from your neighbour who told you that your father was always found at the police station, they suggested you to get your father diagnosed. he has alzheimer's disease for a year now and it's not getting any better. if anything, it gets worse and fast deteroriate.

because yesterday specifically, he didn't remember who you are. he didn't remember your name. he wasn't sure why you were in his house. he even called his mom (who died many years ago) and kicked you out of the house. you know your neighbours saw what happened. you just hope they didn't get the wrong idea about your family because you know your father will not kick you out of his house if he didn't lost his mind. good thing annie the caretaker lives with you. she sedated your father. when everything's calmed, you locked yourself in your room and cried.

yesterday was not the first night you cried since your father was diagnosed. but it was the most painful yet. to witness your father calling his mother who was dead for years. to see an unknowing look when he sees your face. your name didn't give him a clue of who you are. he said something about calling andrea. and you know who andrea and that's where you know you're fucked. because both you and you father hate your mum.

all of the times you spent together with him got deleted from his memory just like that. you remember when you were younger. you used to get mad at your father for not giving you enough attention but if you knew your father was going to get alzheimer's and that he won't remember you ever, you wouldn't beg your father for attention.

so what now? you can't just make a conversation with him now. you can't get straight to your point because every time you will try tell him something exciting, you will have to tell him from the start. from before the news. the concert your favourite is going to make. your plan on seeing them. when the ticket purchasing is open and you got yourself the very expensive one (the package includes meet and greet with the band backstage before concert, a handful of merchandise that include lanyard, rainbow light stick, bracelet, photo album from the first few concerts, free drinks.) the songs list. though at one point, you stop talking.

"nevermind. you won't remember it at all," you'd tell your father.

"i'm sorry."

"it's okay."

no. it's never okay. because he used to remember things that you like, love and hate the most. he remembered things that made you cry and laugh. he knew the bad jokes just to put a smile on your face. both of you used to say bad things about your mum and laughed about it. now he talks about her.

and he definitely hates you now. you know it's his routine to go out at 11 in the morning to meet his friends somewhere in the neighbourhood. he would usually be back home by lunch time. he would walk home since most of his friends are also too old to drive. but after a few times being found by the police and your neighbour had to fetch him at the police station, he's banned to leave the house without a partner even if he's not meeting his friends. annie will usually tidy and clean the house in the morning and you work in the morning until five. like a teenager, he's in a rebellion phase where he doesn't want to talk to you though he's still being friendly with annie.

you're lost. you don't know what to do. you tried asking the doctors some advice. you tried asking a community for a solution. you tried inviting his friends over to your house instead but at the end of the day, your father still wants to go out during the time that neither you nor annie were available. it hurts you everywhere realising that you lost your lovely father.

you feel your eyes sting. they water a little bit before you blink them away. but it's not like you to cry on a daylight. so you sit in your car as you drive within speed limit, head hurts from holding back your tears. the traffic is as normally heavy today but you're not stuck. you enjoy every second of the drive until a big dog crosses the road. you to slam your break. your tyres screech.

luckily you were already inside a rich neighbourhood. the familiar, quiet and deserted neighbourhood where there are less cars, more trees, big and well-maintained park. you rarely come here unless you're visiting one of two of your rich friends. shocked, the dog doesn't move. he stays in front of your car in the middle of the road, crying for his mistake. you pull your handbreak and press the hazard light button before you leave your car to check up on the dog.

"hey, buddy."

the dog whines. he watches as you approach him, gives you his best puppy dog eyes so that you would not be angry at him and help him instead. he belongs to someone because there's a collar around his neck though without a name and a phone number. smoothing your fingers through the dog's fur, you help him calm down.

"oh, thank god, you're okay," you'd say. "are you supposed to be here, little buddy? where did you come from, huh? where's your human?"

the dog whimpers while you continue to caress his neck, his back, his head. you can feel him shaking uncontrollably under your palms. instantly, you feel bad for him even though it's not your fault to make him scared in the first place.

"augustine!" comes a male voice from over the dog's shoulder. "augustine. oh thank god! there you are! you got me worried sick about you!"

every problem you had about your life was gone when you see the dog and when you had to hit the break paddle but now as the familiar blonde-haired man with blue eyes is in front of you, you feel your heart explodes. something caught in your throat. your blood withdrawn from your face. you feel like your world is crashing down and rebuilding with a new kind of good problem. out of the many places and times, why must you see mick schumacher now?

mick was your childhood bestfriends. since he's inseparable with his sister gina and since your age is not so different with her, you're best friends with her too. and being bestfriends with the siblings is like being the third child to their parents corinna and michael. so they know you. you know them. your father is a friend of michael and he was one of the few people that was allowed to see michael when he got into that tragic accident. things changed when mick got so busy with his formula siries career and you're busy studying to be an engineer. it's been years since you last saw him. well, until today.

mick, who has yet to notice you there, lets out a long sigh. you watch him as he puts his attention on dog---augustine. he kneels in front of augustine, checking his body for cuts and bloods. when there's nothing serious, he sighs one more time. relieved, his shoulders relaxed.

"augustine... what did i tell you about running off the street?"

the dog shoves his muzzle into the male's underarm, hiding his face and continues to whimper. it's as if he is apologising to mick that he's being reckless and maybe promise not to do it again.

"you could've been killed, do you know that?"

mick looks up at you now after feeling like it's enough to scold augustine. plus, they're still in the middle of one side of the road. and his reaction mirrors you when you first found out that it's mick in front of you.

"catherine?"

"hi, mick."

you smile. you feel like being a high school girl again for having your crush looking right at you. he is exactly the kind of prince charming most girls used to dream of when they were children. only you have had met your prince charming ever since you were little.

mick's eyes studies your face that he hasn't seen in a few years. "h--- hi."

things get awkward. you didn't know what else to say. you keep smiling.

"i'm--- uhh--- i'm sorry about augustine," mick stutters a little. "we were just playing freebies. at the park. and then she thought we lost the freebies so she went hunting for it."

so agustine is a she.

"don't worry about it." you wave a hand. "what's important is that she's fine, isn't she."

"a bit traumatised, i bet. but other than that, she's fine, yeah." mick smiles at you even though his eyes are on augustine who is sitting like a good dog near his leg.

a short silence falls between you and mick again until mick feels augustine nudges his leg.

"i--- i should get going."

get going? five minutes ago you're sure you felt like running away when you saw mick. in face, you didn't want to meet anyone you knew who lives in this street because you hate telling stories about your father. the shock in their faces. the simpathy. they send condolences but they never meet their hearts. because none of them never experienced what you're experiencing now. but when mick stands up, pets his dog to follow, turns around towards the direction they came, you feel like stopping them. because when interacting with them you weren't thinking about your problems for once. it feels fresh.

but despite that, you didn't have the courage to call mick even though you were his childhood bestfriends. even though you grew up in the same village. even though both of you used to play with dirts together at the horse barn at your neighbour's. all of your learned how to ride a horse together with your neighbour's kids but only gina turned out to make it a career. how he would follow you and your father hunting in the woods. you were there when he decided to be serious with karting. you would reconsider to do it if you still had that dream job, one where you and mick weren't having that huge gap in terms of your career. but it's different now. mick is a succesful formula one driver and you're just a barista. it sounds crazy if he wants to go out with you.

but you haven't seen him for years! you could kill yourself if you didn't go out with mick for at least once in your youth. to see how he is like as a someone closer than just a friend. if it didn't work out, it's okay, you think. you can still be friends with him like he is friends with justine. so you open your mouth to call mick. you were glad nothing came out because before you could find your voice, mick stops on the road divider. augustine follows just as when he stops. he turns around and approaches you once again.

"sorry." he chuckles nervously. "i know this sounds a bit crazy but i'm free for the rest of the day today. and i was wondering if... if you'd like to have some coffee with me."

you heart blossoms. "i would if you don't mind me driving for you."

you definitely didn't plan to say that though. it's just that your car is kind of brand new so it's hard to put a trust on somebody else to drive your car even though he is an f1 driver.

mick chuckles. "i don't. new car?"

"kind of," you answer as mick inspects your car. the tyres. the sportrim. the skirting. the tinted windows. the custom colour of your car. "it's two years old though but it till feels like it's new."

mick is definitely in love with your car.

"look at how shiny your car is."

mick rounds your car, pushes augustine into the back of your car and apologises when augutine's legs cause a dirts on your seats. though you wish you brought old towel or newpapers, but you dismiss mick and drives him back to the park (though you have make to u-turn) for him to collect his belongings that he left when chasing after augustine. good thing nothing was stolen.

you ended up settling down at a coffee shop in the city centre with mick beside you and augustine comfortably lying on her stomach by mick's foot. you recognise this particular coffee shop because a year ago you were one of their regular customers to get coffee first thing in the morning before work. their coffee never felt expensive to you.

until now...

"the fact that we haven't seen each other for years, i feel like i should introduce myself," mick jokes.

"we just haven't seen each other, mick. we're not strangers."

mick laughs. "how have you been doing?"

to be honest, you don't know how to answer mick's question. well, how do you answer when a year and a half ago, you learned that your father has alzheimer's disease. and then you have to resign from your old company, say goodbye to your dreams, pack your bags and return home. you weren't ready for what comes next. nobody from your circle told you what to expect when your father has alzheimer's. so when he starts to forget about you, it hurts so bad.

"i'm... good."

"the delay doesn't sound good."

"i don't have anything else to say."

mick stares at you for a few seconds. it feels like he is reading your mind. it feels as if he already knew what happened to your father but didn't want to feel like he knows everything so he keeps quiet. you're damn sure he is waiting for you to tell him but the question is, are you ready? even if he already knew about your family?

didn't feel comfortable, you gulp and look away before returning your gaze to him.

"enough about me. how about you? how are you doing? how's your career?"

mick doesn't look pleased with the question. he presses his lips together. as trained, he answers "there are many ups and downs with the teams. didn't manage to finish last race but we're looking forward to the next race and definitely we will work harder."

"seriously? you're using that voice with me?"

"what voice?"

"your working voice," you state. "when you're answering interviews. you have this kind of voice. and that staged answers--- i know you memorise them. come on. tell me something i don't know."

mick wonders and he wonders a lot. and you definitely didn't know what you don't know and mick decides to wait and see if he's right.

"well, seb is visiting us next week."

"really?"

your face lights up hearing sebastian vettel's name as you're close to him too. his kids are a bundle joy. though you only meet them when he's visiting mick but they remember you and that's what matters. having a father who was once a part of the motorsport team gave you a lot of advantages and experiences a normal girl didn't have.

your father was michael's mechanic at ferrari. and michael was close to him at home but closer since they spent so much time together around the globe. and michael was close to sebastian so that makes your father closed with sebastian. and you too. at some point, all of you are connected.

you thought of bringing your father to see sebastian at mick's house but your face falls as soon as you remember that your father isn't going to remember who sebastian is despite being close. those times he and michael spent with sebastian in the red bull garage after both of them retired. those times they spent together watching junior drivers in their go-kart, standing outside of the go-kart circuit with hands behind their backs, judging other people's kids. your father isn't going to remember them all.

"hey, what's with the sour face?"

you give mick a small smile. "nothing. i probably should head home."

"but we just like here like... three minutes ago."

"i--- i just feel like to be alone. i'm sorry, mick."

"o--- okay."

mick gathers his belongings and you gather yours. he pulls augustine up by the leash and minutes later, all three of you are inside your car again and on your way home.

mick's house is exactly how you remember it used to be. the same colour. the same gravel road that leads to his house. the same frontyard with a little garden on the left though corinna have few different flowers and trees now. his mother or gina might have traded their old cars but other than those, nothing really changed. as you slowly pull your car in front of the house, you see gina at their front porch, reading while her dog roger is chasing the butterflies away.

"thank you for the coffee. i really appreciate it."

"ah, it's nothing," mick scratches the back of his head absent-mindedly. "i think we should do it again."

"you think?"

"no. we should do it again."

yes. you wanted to do this again even though at first, you didn't think there is "again" especially when you were being hard on mick. close to being rude to him when he was nothing but a sweetheart to you. he even paid for your coffee when normally you would your own meal when you go out with your friends. and even a few guys you dated back then.

you're not sure where this is going. you wished to go out with mick for at least once in your life. but god is giving you another chance with mick so you definitely isn't going to say no. right? wrong! just when you thought you finally found your happiness, a thought about your father crosses your mind. you've been neglecting him for hours now. a part from his rebellion about you not allowing him to go out without supervision, he could be sulking now at home because you've been neglecting him. another reason for him to hate you.

"i don't know, mick."

"you're worried about your father, aren't you?"

this is what mick has been waiting for you tell him about. he's been itching to hear them from your own mouth. he didn't dare to ask you himself in the first place because he knows what it feels like to talk about something you hadn't truly accept. but the reason mick is asking now is because he wants to see you more and he cannot bear the fact that you keep saying no becaue of your father as if he didn't understand your situation.

he understands alright!

your eyes instantly water. "how---how do you know?"

it hurts to see you cry because the catherine he remembers was always laughing. if you're not doing that, you'd be smiling. even if not that, you'd be mischievously smirking at him with gina. both of you were quite pranksters back then. even if you weren't doing any of the above, you were not crying.

"mum told me." mick pauses. "i didn't believe her but last week i found your father at my old karting club with annie. i tried to talk to him but he didn't remember me. and that's when i know."

you wipe your tears on your cheeks.

"is that why you've been distancing yourself from me?"

"no."

mick raises his eyebrows. "are you sure?"

"maybe."

"why else?"

"well, isn't it obvious? that you're always busy and constantly traveling. meanwhile i'm here struggling with double hours and taking care of my father that i barely had time for anything."

"aren't you an engineer?"

"were," you say. "i have to leave them behind, mick. right when my father was officially diagnosed with alzheimer's. i came back home. and i'm now a barista."

you lift up a logo on the left side of your uniform.

"i'm sorry you have to through this, catherine."

"i'm... getting used to it."

"you know what, why don't you come with him when seb comes next week?"

"thanks but he won't remember anything, mick. he doesn't even remember me."

"shit."

mick looks down. mourning. mourning for you and all of your memories you had with your dad.

"but this isn't going to be the last time we ever see each other again, okay? i'll see you tomorrow at your house. i want to see your father. i don't care if he doesn't remember me. i still want to see him."

"no. you don't have to---"

"maybe i'll bring gina along. we'll see." mick smiles. "bye."

you watch as mick opens the back car door and whistles to augustine. as soon as mick and augustine step foot onto their frontyard, roger barks happily at them as if announcing to the people who live there that mick and augustine are back from the park. gina puts down her book and looks up. she smiles brightly as soon as she recognises it's you in the car and waves at you. you wave back, returning home.

when the next day comes, mick didn't tell notify you that he's on his way to your house. good thing you are on your off-day and you just finished having your late breakfast when your door bell rings. your father doesn't move from his seat. he didn't ask you to get the door. it's as if he didn't hear the bell. or maybe he is sulking about yesterday. meanwhile you and annie exchange looks.

"did we expect any visitors today?"

"uh. i think that's mick."

"mick? as in the schumacher?"

you nod your head.

"you didn't tell me he's coming? i didn't prepare anything."

"and i haven't taken my shower," you say. "that's alright. i'll get the door. he's here to see dad."

when you finally open the door, you realise that mick isn't alone. a beaming gina is one step behind mick's shoulder. while mick is wearing a jumper and jeans, gina is wearing a button-up shirt tucked into her trousers and her trousers are tucked into her horse-riding boots. she must be from the barn. as usual.

"were you at the schmidt's the whole morning?"

schmidt is your neighbour. the who one has the horse barn where all three of you---including schmidt's children---used to play together when you were kids. the way all of you used to play like there's no tomorrow. not worrying about pimples and acnes and allergies. while the fathers would be watching over you, drinking coffees (because it's not a good moral to drink alcohol with kids around) and talking. sometimes they'd be working on an old tractor that they know was not going to work but still tried to make it work.

gina chuckles. "do you mind if i use your bathroom. i just finished---"

"yeah, yeah. go ahead. you know where the bathroom is. my turn next."

gina leaves her boots outside, enters your house without any more words, leaving mick in confusion as he watches his older sister making your house like her second house. just like how you did to theirs.

"is she always like that?"

you smile guiltily.

"how come you're still close with her and not with me?"

"i don't know, mick. i guess it's easier when you're always home."

mick doesn't like that sound. he's home as much as he can when there's no race. his manager tries to accept less interviews, appointments, photoshoots to free his schedule and let him home because he understands mick's family situation. and when he's home, he is home. and yet, he never stumbled into you before.

mick enters your house and the sense of familiarity hits him. every precious moment he created with you and the house when he was a little boy hits his memory core. the kitchen where you'd all eat cereal despite it being pass breakfast time. the silly arts on the wall are still there. and then there's the living room where all of you used to watch cartoons. your father travels alot when he was a ferrari mechanic but somehow always manage to reserve this old house foor the sake of the memories. miracle.

then mick sees your father sitting on the single chair, staring into nothing. mick glances at you.

"ever since he... you know... he doesn't like noise. he hates the tv because he says he cannot understand whatever the hell they're saying. though i think he is particularly quiet today is because i was not home early."

"mum says you'd walk with him on your off-day."

"that's true. but in the evening. i--- uh--- i usually woke up late on my off-day."

as if somethng clicks in his mind, mick's eyes catch an abandoned set of bowl and mug on your kitchen island. "you just finished your breakfast, aren't you?"

you sheepishly smile at him. you know mick and his family are early risers. maybe it's in their genes but it's also might be because they're athletes and with their training schedules, diet, mental health they're trained to sleep early to wake up early the next morning.

because it doesn't feel foreign inside your house so without being offered, mick takes a seat in front of your father, you in front of him so you can see the day his blue eyes dilate with hope as he opens his mouth to greet your father.

"good morning, herr erberhardt."

when your father looks at mick, there is the smiliar confusion he has with you. the first time felt like thousands of knives impaling you and though it still hurts to see the same unknown look on his face when he looked at you this morning but since you have accepted it, you stopped feeling sorry for yourself. and it amazes you with how fast you could accept.

"who are you?"

"i'm mick. you know my father michael."

"michael?"

"schumacher?" mick's face falls but he doesn't look hurt that your father didn't recognise him and his father. "you were his best friend and mechanic."

"oh."

mick quickly pulls out his mobile phone. you watch as mick presses some icons for a while until you finally understand what he's doing. he opens his camera roll, picks one picture and shows it to your father. you lean closer to look at the picture. and though mick didn't slightly turn his phone for you, you can see the picture clearly. your father and mick's. both of them are wearing the familiar red t-shirt.

your father definitely have tons of pictures of him at work but not this one. based on the quality, you would know that it's from one of the least photographers who was allowed to enter the paddock back then.

"see. this is him. the one on the right. and this is you. it was both of your last day with ferrari."

you weren't there on your father's last day with ferrari but you remember him coming home with lots of gifts from brasil. and you still have them in a big box in the garage where you keep good ol' stuffs there.

mick continues to tell stories to your father. and it was at this exact moment that you know why you weren't allowed to follow him to brasil because he knew there were having a farewell party and he's going to get drunk and not able to take care of you. maybe it's better to find this out as an adult because otherwise, you wouldn't want to speak to your father again if you found this out when you were little.

it looks like mick doesn't care at all that your father doesn't remember anything that he's telling as your father listens to them without showing any interest at all. mick keeps his composure well and you wonder how he does it until you remember that his father is sick ever since he was 14. when you were 14, you still had your father to help you with a guitar.

gina comes into the living room, smelling like your shower gel and hair shampoo, when mick is telling a story about him and sebastian. and you excuse yourself because it's your turn to take a shower. and you could've missed mick glancing at you if you hadn't turn towards them at the living room.

when it's time for lunch, gina was first to be seated at the dining table, too hungry from her session at schmidt's barn. everyone eats only when everyone is seated at the dining table---including annie---and gina is treating herself as if she's at her family's house. not like you mind though because her presence brings a little joy in the house.

mick on the other hand is embarrassed with his sister's behaviour even though he too is used to having lunches and dinners at your house. but that was several years ago. to be able to do this again feels like he's starting over with you and your family. but maybe with gina there he can get used to this sooner.

everyone is doing their own part at the dining table. one asks questions. one answers the questions. one more person makes fun of the person who asked the question because she likes to make fun of her little brother. the late-30 woman is keeping an eye on an old man who is feeding himself slowly. for a moment, everything looks so perfect at the dining table until the old man stops eating, leaves the dining table and starts hunting for something.

four of you stop eating immediately. everyone wears a worried look on their faces as you watch your father looking around the house for something. he stops in front of the tv where the coffee table sits. he upturns the rattan bowl, rummaging through its content scattering on the table. then he takes out everything inside the sofa remote holder. when he didn't find what he's looking for, he moves towards the tv cabinet.

he opens the tv cabinet, takes out every cd, dvd, book, extension wire, more remote controls and dust. you hear him mumbling something but he still hasn't found it.

"dad, what are you looking for?"

you dad doesn't answer you.

"dad, do you need help?"

"ma! where's my... where's my..."

mick knows you have no one except your father, though when you were little, diana (your nanny) was in the picture and annie came only when your father was diagnosed with alzheimer's. your father's mother died before you even existed. maybe mick's father knew her but not the next generation. now it makes you wonder how far back his memory is deleted from his brain.

but it seems that even by calling for help from his mother, he doesn't know what he's looking for. you get up from your dining table and approaches your dad. you try to tell that it's okay to forget what he's looking for now and that he can try and find it later when he remembers. the house is already a mess like there was a thief here but your father is not giving up.

"dad, why don't you sit down for a minute. i'm sure it'll come back to you if you calm down."

"no. i can't," he says. "it's important."

"why don't you tell me what you're looking for and i'll help find it?"

"i--- i don't remember what i'm looking for but i will know when i find it."

frustrated, your dad starts hitting himself. this is not the first time, though. it has happened a few times before. though it's only been a year since your father was diagnosed but this disease is eating him way faster than the doctors claimed.

while you try to stop him form beating himself (you getting beaten in the process), annie jumps out of her seat to get the seductive in her room while gina plays a soft, melancholy music in the background. once again, mick is left in horror as he watches everything unfolding itself in front of his eyes. what's more surprising is how his sister looks like she knows what she's doing.

mick certainly doesn't know what to do in the situation and how to offer any help. it's hurting him to watch your father hitting himself just because he cannot remember what he's looking for. and seeing you gets beaten... by the time your father calms down, he watches you slumping onto the ground with a loud thud. he sees your eyes wet. you look tired despite the fact that you just had your lunch.

gina helps annie carrying your father to his room while mick approaches you.

"hey. are you okay?"

you feel mick's hand squeezes your hand gently. you hear his voice breaking though you did not understand why. you nod your head to answer mick's question.

"annie and gina already brought him to bed. do you want to take a walk?"

"okay," you answer without actually understanding what mick was asking you.

mick stands up and pulls you up with him. mick helps you put on your jacket and shoes after doing the same for himself. you're still too tired from tending your father to speak and to think so while your mind is empty, you let mick leads you out. you follow wherever mick is taking you, talking hand-in-hand in silent, looking at the greens and blues and yellows. some cars pass by but you don't care.

"i'm sorry you have to see that," you finally speak after 30 minutes of walk.

"your father doesn't bother me," mick says.

you made a sound that you didn't know it was coming from your throat.

"gina did."

"why?"

"i don't know. maybe the fact that gina knows about your father. not me. and the fact that she knows what to do when herr erberhardt starts misbehaving tells me that she knows for awhile now."

"i'm sorry, mick. i just didn't want you to worry about me."

"so you told gina not to tell me?"

you sigh. hate to hear the irritation in mick's voice because you know you're wrong. he is your best friend. if augustine hadn't cross the road yesterday and you hadn't almost hit her, you probably is still not ready to tell mick about your father because you're just insecure with yourself now. you lost your dream job while mick is striving. people can't tell you that you're wrong to feel insecure about that.

mick knows not to want to argue with you especially when you're tired, so he drops the topic. that's okay, he thinks. he can ask you next time he sees you. it not tomorrow or the day after tomorrow, he has next week. because he will be seeing you again next week when sebastian comes to visit him and his family even if you didn't bring your father (he hopes you will) because you're close with sebastian like how he is closed with sebastian. but either way, mick knows that he will want to keep seeing you for as long as he can work this out.

when both of you get back to your house, gina is sitting at the front porch to wait for mick to get back home together. annie is nowhere to be seen but you bet she's inside, cleaning up the house after the hazard.

"don't forget next week, okay? i'll ask mum to cook your favourite cheesecake," mick says while hugging you.

"and tell us if you need anything. you know we're always ready help you whenever you need us."

you nod your head and smile at gina. "thanks."

when the siblings are out of your vision, you turn around where your house is. the house that holds thousands of memories and one who doesn't remember them at all.

part 2

#mick schumacher #ms47 #f1 fanfiction #mick schumcher x reader #mic schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fanfic #haas #mercedes #ferrari #alzheimer's disease #mental illness #michael schumacher #sebastian vettel #sv5

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